Harry Potter: Abjuration
by Surarrin
Summary: Whether Dumbledore's man, or The White Court's Pet Wizard, Harry Potter can never escape outside control. From being the BoyWhoLived, to The White Court's errand boy everything is always out of his control. HPxDresden Crossover Pre BloodRites
1. The Hook

**Yoha, new story, blame Shezza88 and Nuhuh for getting me interested in Dresden. This story is Harry in Dresden Land basically, so, if you haven't read The Dresden Files you'll want to read them, subtle hint, subtle hint. But they won't be required reading for this fic, as I'll explain all the foreign concepts as I go along.  
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**Thanks to Tinn Tam for betaing, for without her I would subject you to then's as than's and It's as its.  
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**Jon **

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_I've begun to notice a disturbing trend about events in my life, they all seem to start off with a girl. First it was my mother, and then it was my ex-girlfriend. The next step was a complete and utter stranger. I have a feeling that somewhere out there someone is conspiring against me, and they, without a doubt are female._

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Incense and an overwhelming smell of musk filled the air. It was almost narcotic, the way it lifted the mind away from most matters. But that wasn't why Harry was where he was, no. He could have easily found himself at an average bar, but it wouldn't have worked out. Your average bar wasn't a place to be by yourself, as much as it seemed. When you go to a bar one of two things happen, you're there for a quick drink, and then you're gone. Or you're a member of the bars clique, and you have to be involved. 

Nightclubs, however, were very different. On the surface they were a place to find someone, to indulge in a bit of sin, to fill a void in you, one which you wanted to fill with music, flesh, people. But within that there was something else, a hollowed out inside. The surface was perfect, but like a bar it was deceiving.

It was in a nightclub Harry Potter found himself, near the corner of the club, away from everyone, secluded and almost sealed off from the rest. There was little need for magic, the brooding, deflated look upon the single occupant's face was enough to keep even the most spirited and lust driven soul away.

There was a second, less subtle, reason the black haired wizard was where he was; there was little to no chance a wizard or witch would find their way to him, it was beyond unlikely. After all, no one in all of Magical Britain would expect to find their saviour in a club, surrounded by sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll? Neither of his best friends would have had the mind to find him either.

The steady drone of music was almost as good as the incense at keeping thoughts drifting away from consciousness. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been there, sitting back and ignoring everything that had happened over the past few months.

"And what would such a handsome gentleman such as yourself be doing sitting by himself away from the main attractions of a nightclub?" a soft, light, almost whisper of a voice asked from behind Harry.

If there was one thing Harry had a love-hate relationship with in nightclubs, it was that for all their comfortable features, the lounge chairs which decorated the casual areas were designed so that the people sitting in them had their head partially exposed. Harry had assumed various reasons why it was so. They ranged from it just being an extra comfort, to the owner of the club demanding it be so in case they wanted to take someone out. But that was more of a fictional idea, brought forth from the few movies he had watched in his life.

A new reason came to form in his mind as he felt the tell-tale softness of a woman's cheek against his own. A shiver passed through Harry's body as an equally soft pair of hands found their way onto his arms, trailing down from his biceps to his hands, and ensnaring around his wrists.

Harry tilted his head away from the advances of the unknown female behind him, before, against his better judgement responding.

"He would be enjoying the solitude," he said as he turned his head around to face the woman.

Harry felt the pressure of her arms leave his, with the sole exception of a hand, trailing up his arm to his neck, before flowing down onto the back of the lounge chair. He followed along with his eyes as the woman made her way around from the back of the lounge to the front.

The first thing Harry noticed about her was her impeccable blonde hair, along with the light blue highlights which were splayed throughout the blonde locks. His eyes naturally flowed downwards, meeting her eyes next. There was an odd quality to them, much more so than her hair. Where her hair had been obviously artificially altered, her eyes seemed untouched, which when considering the silver quality they held to them, was almost ethereal in characteristic. A cute nose and a pair of pale pink lips followed suit, her face wasn't round, nor was it gaunt, it was slender, lovely even. A great deal of girls would sell their souls for a face such as hers, Harry would imagine.

As much as Harry tried to fight against it, his eyes trailed down from her face to her body. She was wearing a pair of tight black jeans, laced with dark pink with matching boots, a tight white shirt, which served only to accentuate her bust size and draw attention to it, the shirt ended just above her midriff, leaving her slightly pale stomach exposed. On their way down Harry's eyes took note of a logo emblazoned across her chest which read 'Hate the player, not the game.'

"May," the girl said as she slid into the seat next to him.

"Pardon?" Harry asked as he furrowed his brow, to which the girl let off a chime of a laugh and smiled.

"You may call me May," she said with a cheeky smile, drawing a smile out of Harry despite himself.

"May I, really?" Harry said sardonically.

The girl's smile morphed into a grin, showing off her almost pearly teeth.

"No, Frigus," she said as she reached across the small distance that separate them, towards Harry's drink.

Harry took unconscious note that her finger nails were a periwinkle colour, as she took up his half-empty, luke-warm drink. The temperature had been why he hadn't finished it, over the past few hours it had heated up from the chilly temperature it had started off with.

"First name May, last name Frigus?" Harry said slowly, as he watched the girl take the smallest sip out of his drink.

"And yours is?" the girl asked, as she lowered the drink from her lips and placed it back down upon the table between them.

"Harry," was the only reply she got, before he reclaimed his drink and brought it up to his lips.

A moment before it touched his lips Harry took note of the anxious gleam in May's silver eyes.

"Did you do something to it?" he asked calmly, as he held it at its place just above his lips.

"No, I didn't," the blonde girl said smiling, before taking a look into Harry's eyes and seeing distrust. "I promise, cross my heart," she continued, giving a playful wink.

"I'll make you a deal," May began with a light laugh, "I promise, that I will never lie to you, under any circumstance,"

"Alright, it's a deal," Harry said giving the peculiar girl a bemused look as he pressed the glass to his lips and titled it upwards, letting the cool liquid flow down his throat. The beverage washed down his throat, filling him with an overly pleasent tingle.

"So, Harry," the blonde haired girl began, before Harry slammed the glass down onto the table, effectively silencing her.

"Don't play games with me," he said coldly, then levelled a slight glare at the girl across from him.

"Pardon?" May inquired, dubiously.

"What are you? You aren't muggle, and you aren't a witch, so what are you?"

"Muggle," May echoed softly, rolling the word off her tongue. "I don't like that word," she stated, before scrunching up her nose, giving her a weird but cute look, which Harry made a point to ignore.

"Well?" Harry snapped, as he slid his hand down into his pocket and ran his fingers over his wand.

"I'm a Faery," the silver eyed girl said matter-of-factly, before spreading out her arms upwards and winking again at Harry.

"Right," Harry said after a few moments, leaning backwards and withdrawing his hand from his wand.

Insanity could give cause for the light Muggle repellent charm he had thrown up over the couch area to fail. It was a weak charm, and that was when it was focused on a single object, spread out it wouldn't be hard for someone who wasn't thinking exactly straight to ignore the charms effect.

"And what are you, Mr Harry?" the girl asked innocently, as she folded her arms thus pushing up her restricted chest. Harry couldn't help but allow his eyes to wander down for a moment and admire the _accidental_ view

"I'm a wizard," Harry said offhandedly, while he tried to remove control of his eyes from his groin and give it back to his brain.

"Really? You can do magic?" the girl almost whispered, leaning closer to Harry before letting out an almost equally quiet rolling laugh.

"I can, in fact" Harry said; and he reached into his pocket, his fingers coming back up against the familiar grain of his wand. He was toying with the idea of showing her his wand before he relieved her of her memories of the past five or so minutes.

"I even have my magic wand right here," he added as he withdrew the long holly wand out of his pocket.

"Will you show me some magic?" the girl said with a hint of awe in her voice.

Harry frowned lightly.

The girl was either extremely drunk, and good at hiding it, or she was on drugs, and VERY good at hiding it. Or she was playing him for a fool.

"I'll show you later," Harry said smiling slightly as he set his wand down on the table.

"So your name is Harry Houdini?" the girl said with a cheeky grin as she slowly moved closer and closer.

"No," Harry idly replied, slowly relaxing again.

"What is it then?" May asked with a curious stare.

"Harry Potter," Harry said after a few moments of debating with himself.

"Harry Potter," May breathed out, as if testing it upon her tongue.

Harry frowned as he felt a slight tingle run down his spine, that had nothing to do with him being cold.

"Tell me, Harry," the tight clothed girl beside him said as she placed her hand over Harry's, "Why are you here, really?"

Harry arched an eyebrow at the look of concern within his new 'friend's' eyes. He couldn't see anything within the argent depths except concern, curiosity, and more than a healthy bit of lust.

"I'm here because I wanted to get away from my life," Harry said carefully

May bit her lip lightly as she glanced down at her hand which laid upon Harry's, before glancing back up to meet his emerald coloured eyes.

"Would you like to come with me?" she said softly, squeezing Harry's hand ever so lightly.

"I would love to, but I can't just leave," Harry said with a faux look of regret upon his face, "And I don't have the money to just up and go whenever I want to."

It was a bold-faced lie. He had all the money he needed, and if he didn't there were more then enough people, not to mention Ministry-bastards that would give him money at the drop of a hat, just so they'd be in his good graces.

May's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, almost unnoticed by Harry.

"You just don't like me, do you?" she said softly, her voice gaining a quiver to it.

"That isn't it at all," Harry protested, before he reached over with his right hand and clasped her cool hand with his own.

As much as he hated it, Harry couldn't stand to see a girl cry, especially when he was the cause, even if it didn't make much, if any sense to him.

May smiled sadly as she pulled her hand back from Harry's

"It's alright, I can understand if you're not interested in a girl like me," she said miserably, then reaching up to brush away the light moisture that had built up around her eyes.

Harry absently noted that besides her lipstick May wasn't wearing any make-up at all. His eyes briefly came into contact with May's again, and he almost winced as he saw none of the previous emotions in her eyes. In their stead was only two things. A sense of pleading, and hurt.

"Please, take me home, Harry Potter," May said softly as she stared across the small distance between her and the black haired wizard.

Harry smiled regretfully across at May before nodding his assent. He reached over to his wand and placed it back within his pocket. The small amount of time he had his wand back in his hand, Harry dismembered the muggle repellent charm. He quietly stood up, ignoring the looks most of the club's patrons were throwing his way at the sudden 'appearance' in the forefront of their minds.

"Come on," Harry said gently as he bared his arm out for May to hold onto, which she did.

Both Harry and May exited the club into the darkness and cold of the night.

Harry shivered lightly as the tendrils of cold enveloped him. Prior to going to Hogwarts he had never been outside late at night, so the unrivalled cold of the night was lost to him. It would have been a lot worse if snow hadn't been a regular thing throughout his life. Beside him May shivered lightly and snuggled into his side. Truth be told, he was very wary of the slightly shorter girl, and with more than enough reason.

"Which way?" Harry asked as he gently nudged the blonde haired girl's shoulder.

Wordlessly she pointed towards a park, not more than a few blocks away from the nightclub. Harry used the term 'park' lightly, it resembled more of a miniature forest than a park, and in the darkness it was every bit as foreboding as the Forbidden Forest back in Hogwarts.

"Would you prefer if I got you a cab?" Harry asked kindly, glancing around for one of the depots he had seen before he had entered the club.

"Cab," May echoed, looking at Harry confusedly, "What's that?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.

"It's a sort of service, you pay a guy to drive you to wherever you want to go. If you'd like I'll pay for you to get home," Harry said with a smile.

"No!" the silver eyed girl said loudly, pushing herself closer to Harry and wrapping her arms around him tightly, "I don't want you to go!" she said pleadingly.

"Look," Harry began exasperatedly, "I promise nothing will happen to you if you take a cab home, in fact, you'd be safer there than you would walking around with me."

May frowned lightly and glanced up into Harry's eyes.

"You'd hurt me?" she whispered out softly, with the same quiver in her voice that she had in the club, making Harry's heart lunge unpleasantly.

"No, I promise I'll never hurt you, or let anyone hurt you if there is anything in my power that I can do," Harry said soothingly with a gentle smile upon his face.

If there was one thing he had learnt from his dealing with most people, it was that everyone liked a sense of protection, no matter if it was real or false, and that he couldn't deal with people crying.

"What do you want in return?" May said after a few moments of silence, before glancing down at her body and then back up to Harry's with an unreadable look upon her face.

Without warning, May leaned close to Harry and nuzzled his chest as her hands slid down to his waist.

"No, nothing like that!" Harry managed to choke out in surprise.

"What do you want then?" May said softly, as she laid her head against Harry's chest and nuzzled it lightly.

"Nothing," Harry said bemusedly, with a small smile upon his lips.

"It's a deal then," May said softly, before leaning up and placing a light kiss upon Harry's cheek.

Harry's cheek burned lightly under her lips, and it was suffused with a soft hue of red.

"Shall we go then?" Harry said as he gestured towards the park.

May tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"Of course," she murmured softly as she reached down and clasped Harry's hand, before tugging him gently as she began to walk towards the dark and desolate park.

A few minutes passed in silence as both Harry and May made their way down the street to the darkness of the forest. Harry loathed admitting it, but it felt nice, walking in silence with the faint warmth of May's hand clasped around his.

"Harry?" May said after a few minutes of silence.

"Hm?" the black haired wizard responded wordlessly.

"What do you do for a living?" she questioned curiously, glancing up to Harry's face.

Harry frowned lightly, not at May, but at the question. He didn't really have an occupation, besides being a wizard. He highly doubted that 'Dark Wizard Hunter' counted as a real profession, but it was the only 'job' he had ever done. He had already slipped up with the wizard and muggle terms; the extra information didn't matter much, especially because she wasn't going to remember it.

"I'm a Dark Wizard Hunter," Harry said after a few moments of silence.

"Sounds dangerous," May said with a small frown.

"It used to be," Harry admitted, "But over the last year it's gotten a lot easier. Before it was like fighting a fire the size of a tree with only a cup full of water but now instead of the proverbial cup, I've got a hose."

"What changed?" May asked through a light yawn as she leaned upon Harry's arm.

"I found the power that the Dark Lord didn't know about," Harry said with a slight laugh.

"It sounds like a fictional story," the blonde haired girl murmured softly.

"With what my old Headmaster was telling me it may have well been," Harry mumbled to himself bitterly.

"What do you mean?" May asked softly as she watched Harry's facial features.

"Before he died, he told me that the power that I had, that Voldemort didn't, the one which would save us all..." Harry trailed off.

"What was he talking about?" May asked curiously, as she stopped walking.

"Love," Harry said with an amused smile, before laughing to himself.

May joined in laughing hesitantly, before frowning as her newly acquired acquaintance continued to laugh. Her face morphed into a frown, laced with concern for him.

"Don't you believe in love?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with amusement.

Harry stopped laughing as he noticed the look she was giving him. He graced her with an amused grin, before shaking his head.

"No, I don't believe in it, but I know it exists. I've seen my friends' love for their family do amazing things. Love can fill a person's life with a sense of purpose and make life worth living but it can't save the world."

"If love can't win the war between Good and Evil, what can?" May asked with a genuine interest.

Harry almost grimaced.

The girl's naivety and innocence were almost palpable. The fact that she had wished to remain within a meter of him after he made a few comments about wizards was enough for him to consider her drunk. The fact that she was demanding that he took her home was just something else altogether. It was looking more and more likely that she was somehow magically informed. A Squib, perhaps.

"Good and Evil aren't mutually exclusive," Harry said flatly.

"That's a rather pessimestic view," May said with a disapproving frown.

Harry gifted May with a lazy half smile.

"The world has a habit of killing optimists," he said bitterly, before glancing ahead.

The forest-like park was literally a step away, they had arrived at the entrance to the park without realising it.

"You haven't had a very nice life, have you?" May said softly as she turned to Harry.

"My life hasn't been a walk in the," Harry paused, before glancing into the darkness of the park. "Well you know how the saying goes," Harry finished with a small smile.

"Haaarrryyyyy," May said drawing out his name.

The wizard in question couldn't help but allow his smile to grow slightly.

"Yes, May?"

"Are you a virgin?" she asked innocently.

Harry blinked owlishly, before he opened his mouth to reply.

"You are!" May exclaimed with a cheeky grin before Harry could say anything.

The black haired wizard wordlessly shrugged, before glancing into the forest.

"I'm sorry," May said after a few moments of silence, "I've made you uncomfortable, you're welcome to leave if you want to; I won't hold it against you."

A light frown marred Harry's lips for a moment, before he shook his head and allowed the frown to morph into a smile.

"No, I promised I'd protect you, and I will," Harry said with a wink.

May opened her mouth to say something, but she was too slow; Harry brought up a single finger and placed it against her lips, "Shh!" he shushed her lightly. A look of irritation passed over May's face for a moment before it vanished.

"Shall we go Milady?" Harry said mockingly as he swept his arm towards the park.

"Are you sure you want to take me home? It's a scary place," May said teasingly, mimicking Harry's wink.

"I'm sure, I've been through worse looking forests," Harry said amusedly, before offering his hand to May.

"Since you're so sure," May said with a small smile as she clasped her hand upon his.

She paused for a moment and glanced to Harry.

"By the way, it's a park, not a forest," she teased him lightly, enjoying the light colouring that bled into his cheeks.

"I knew that," Harry said almost instantly, before walking forward with his female companion, past the threshold of the park.

The smell of wet grass hit Harry as they walked through the park's dense vegetation. In hindsight, it would have been smarter to walk that extra bit further and find a path, but he, and May had already been in the park for at least a few minutes, so the point was rendered moot. The further they walked the less and less Harry could hear the noises of the city, in fact he could not even see the light's of the city anymore. The forest around was illuminated by nothing but the stars and moon above.

A light shiver traveled down Harry's neck as they emerged from the almost dense vegetation, and into a clearing.

"I thought we'd never make it through," May exclaimed as she broke her hand free from Harry's grip.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked amusedly as he watched the slightly shorter girl jog for a small amount of time until she was in the middle of the field.

May spun around to face Harry and threw her arms out to the side, her lips curved upwards in an energetic smile which reached her eyes.

"What do you think?" she called out to Harry, "It's my own personal hide-away."

_It's almost ethereal_, Harry thought to himself as he watched the moonlight dance across the field, illuminating an almost invisible sheet of mist upon the ground. The light brushed up against the tops of the trees before fading away into the darkness of the night sky. Harry doubted that it would look as picturesque during the day, nor if May wasn't standing where she was.

The way the light of the moon played upon her visage, it was almost magical. Where in the club she had looked enticing with the dimmed and flashing lights, out in the open the natural light created a certain allure, which was unobtainable by artificial means. The blades of grass seemed to sway gently in the almost non-existent wind along with the fine mist laden across the clearing.

Harry was content to stare at May for more then a few moments, as she gazed back at him, her smile slowly fading down into a mild half smile.

As with seemingly everything in Harry's life the moment didn't last long.

An almost deafening roar reverberated through the air, and the tree line behind May began to shudder. Harry could feel the ground tremble as whatever it was on the other side of the trees began to move closer.

Without so much as a second thought Harry broke into a sprint towards May, who seemed to be frozen with confusion, and more than a healthy dose of fear. As he reached her he withdrew his wand from his pocket, mentally running through the list of spells he could use to stop whatever the hell it was that was about to ruin his up until then, perfectly good night.

From the middle of the trees a dark figure literally bashed its way out into the clearing. The moment it had gotten free of the trees the moonlight had shone down upon it, and illuminated its features.

It was at least eight feet tall, its skin upholstered in knobbly, hairy warts. Lank greasy hair hung down past its massive shoulders. Its two beady red eyes glared out from beneath an overbearing brow.

Harry winced lightly; it looked like a cross between a Troll and Hagrid.

The surly creature's eyes landed upon May and Harry almost instantly, and it let out a deafening bellow, before beginning to charge towards the two faster than Harry would have thought possible.

"Not good," Harry mumbled to himself as he prepared himself for what was about to come.

Harry stepped forwards in front of May and slashed his wand repeatedly at the creature in front of him.

"Falcifer Obsidio!" Harry shouted as he tore his wand upwards on the final jagged movement.

The effect was almost instantaneous.

From in front of Harry dozens of scythe-like blades of energy tore forth, heading on a direct path towards the beast. Harry had taken, despite the rash nature in which he had cast it, extreme precision with where the blades had been directed.

The world seemed to grow silent for a few moments, just as the first of the blades reached the monstrosity barreling down across the field. The blades flashed brightly as they passed through the Troll. While the casting had been almost instantaneous, it took two seconds before the spell's potential was realized, and the beast's body erupted into a fine spray of orange fluids.

Unfortunately for Harry it wasn't enough to even slow the target down, and casting the spell had used up what little time he had before the brute was upon him and his seemingly petrified friend.

There wasn't any time left at all, the monster was only two meters away, beside him he felt May shift lightly, no doubt wide eyed at the monstrosity upon them. The surly monster drew its right talon-like hand backwards, preparing to strike. As calmly as he could, Harry straightened up and stuck his left hand out towards the vicious beast, just as it it brought its clawed hand forwards a gentle flash of light appeared upon Harry's palm, before it erupted outwards in a crimson shock wave.

The scarlet energy diffused almost as quickly as it had formed. In its stead was a translucent circular barrier; the only thing between Harry and the razor sharp talons of the aggressor. For a moment the creature seemed to be stunned, but it didn't last too long, after a few seconds it screeched out again, and began hammering its fists against the shield.

Harry grimaced as the beast continued to strike the shield. While it neutralized most of the kinetic energy, there was still more than enough passed on through the shield that his arm was beginning to feel pained.

"May," Harry grunted out loudly, "When I tell you, run back the way we came, and get as far away as you can."

"Why?" May asked with a trembling voice. "What can you do against that?"

Harry didn't answer, there wasn't much he could do against it, if the effect his cutting curse had on it was anything to go by. Through the dribbles of orange blood, Harry could see the wounds he had inflicted upon it. They were healing, right before his very eyes.

"I can stop it from getting to you, for one," Harry said calmly as he stared up into the angry red eyes of the beast on the other side of the barrier, "And if there is no other way, I can kill it."

As the words left Harry's lips he felt sickened. For all he knew he and May could have stumbled across it during its mating period, or they had invaded its territory.

"But-," May began to say, but was abruptly stopped.

"Just go!" Harry snarled out as he focused back on his shield, which while sustaining it's integrity, was draining a fair amount of power from him. it was the first time he'd ever pitted his abilities against brute strength, prior, it had only been against incorporeal things, like Spells.

Harry didn't hear anything from behind him for a few seconds, before he heard the soft rustle of grass. It was almost indistinguishable from the snarls drilling into his ears from only a meter away.

"Don't die!" May's voice rang out from behind Harry, faint, as if she were already out of the clearing.

Harry snorted lightly as he regarded the beast opposite of him. May would have been more likely to die than he was, she had no way of defending herself.

A feeling of dread ran through Harry's body.

May didn't have anyway to defend herself. She was a Muggle at worst case, or a Witch or Human Hybrid at best.

May was running away. She knew about Magic, and had seen his 'secret skill'.

He hadn't obliviated her.

Harry had the overwhelming urge to scream out every swear word he had ever read, heard or spoken. But he had the foresight to know that screaming back into the rabid humanoids face wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it was right after what he was about to do.

The Troll-like creature seemed to notice that something was wrong when the edges of the barrier between it and it's target were fizzling away. With renewed vigor it began to strike the shield. Crimson sparks were flying everywhere; from where the edges were fading to where it was striking the shield.

The beast reared up for a final strike.

And then it happened.

The center of the shield erupted forth, striking the monster in the chest. The shield collapsed in on itself as it tore forth into the creature, sending it flying back almost as fast as it had charged.

Without pausing to see if the creature was down for the count, Harry began running back he way he had come, after May. Harry didn't dare look back, he had no disillusions that the trick he had pulled with the shield could have killed the creature, unless it was killed by physical trauma, but he highly doubted it; the creature was probably as tough as a Troll, and they could take more than a fair beating.

Harry flinched lightly as a booming roar tore through the clearing; he had only just made it to the edge of the clearing.

"_**Surrectus Terra**_," Harry hissed out as he flicked his wand in a large arch at the ground in front of him. As soon as the forest green energy was absorbed into the ground, Harry lunged forward over it, barely managing to pass it before the ground was torn asunder as a monolithic wall of solid earth erupted upwards with a vigor Harry had never seen before with the previous incarnations of the spell.

Harry's lips curved upwards in a fierce grin as he heard the beast roar in anger again. The grin faltered a few minutes later as Harry approached the edge of the park. The sky was tinged with with the faintest touch of light. Harry glanced down at his watch, and almost swore. The hands on it had stopped moving, they were stuck at eleven thirty six PM.

There was no possible way that so much time had passed. It hadn't felt like more then an hour, at most. Worse than that, May was no where to be seen.

But, all hope was not lost; There were few people on the streets, and they were far and in between.

Harry stepped backwards and turned upon his heel.

Harry stared back where he had come. His eyes remained where he had walked from, but he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He stared blankly at the park in front of him.

For the second time in less than an hour a feeling of dread bore it's way through his entire body.

There was a park behind him, but it wasn't anything like the one he had walked through. It was laded with tables and tall lights. It had bushes sprawled throughout, but there was barely any trees at all. Worse yet, there was nothing he recognized, within the park or around it. The gigantic wall of compacted dirt wasn't even anywhere he could see.

Harry exhaled slowly and glanced around he found himself unconsciously tightening his grip on his wand.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked no one in particular as he glanced around the desolate street.

The buildings all seemed to be newly built. The air smelt slightly of damp cement, causing Harry to scrunch up his nose lightly in displeasure. In the far distance, Harry could hear the beeping of cars, and see flashes of neon lights. Using the simple logic of Lights Plus Sounds Equals People, Harry began to walk.

There was a subtle shift in the smell of the air, Harry noticed as he walked onwards. Where it had smelt like a construction site a few moments prior, it had begun to smell more usual, it was hard to explain, cleaner wasn't the exact word for it, it was lighter less heavy than prior.

"Excuse me, where am I?" Harry asked one of the people who walked past him, but the repetition of his question amounted to little; Every time he asked he was ignored.

He had already tried to use the Point-Me spell to divine his location in an alley, but all it had done was almost stab him in the middle of the hand with his wand.

Harry was ever so slowly getting more and more agitated; With each person who passed and ignored him, more and more of that anger found a way to escape from his control in the form of a rising pressure inside his body. A feeling of dread seeped through Harry's body as he recognized the beginning's of a what he dubbed a 'magical surge'.

Harry stepped towards the nearest building and turned around, pressing his back up against the icy cold marble-covered wall. The more he fretted the worse it was going to get. Slowly, Harry lowered himself to the ground and brought his head into his arms, trying to focus his thoughts on something other then the anger he was experiencing.

There was a lot to be angry about; Him being misled by the girl called May, which he should have seen coming. The fact that everyone seemed to ignore him as if he didn't exist, or barely took any notice of him. The main reason he had gone out by himself into Muggle London was still nagging at him.

Harry stared down at the pavement in front of him, slowly categorizing and detaining the anger rampantly flowing through his mind. he was so immersed in fixing the problem, that he didn't notice a pair of slender legs covered with the tell-tale black matte of a business suit cross in front of him, nor did he notice them stop directly across from him.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked from above Harry, causing him to drop his attempts at calming down and glare up at the person who interrupted him.

The glare died almost as soon as his eyes made contact with the person standing above him, the anger bubbling away inside him was extinguished almost instantly, and before Harry could make sense of what was happening, a spasm of raw physical need shot through him. A Pair of cold grey eyes, tinged with purple stared down at Harry. Harry's eyes quickly took in her entire appearance, he couldn't help himself.

It was hard to describe her, she couldn't be easily quantified. Her hair was dark enough that it seemed to gleam with purple, a torrent of glossy curls held partially in check with a pair of milk ivory combs. her suit looked to be perfectly fitted, it was hard for Harry to tear his eyes away.

"Are you alright?" the woman repeated calmly.

"I," Harry began to say before alarms started to sound in his head, that weren't related to his previous anger problem, which seemed to drain away the moment the woman had made her presence known.

"You're a Veela," Harry managed to choke out.

"Veala? Did you mean veal?" the woman asked with an air of slight distaste, I certainly hope you're not suggesting I'm a piece of meat."

Harry's brow furrowed for a moment as he processed the words the woman had spoken.

"Sorry, I'm a bit out of it," Harry said calmly as he began to shake off the shock that had set in once his eyes had made contact with the dark haired woman.

"So it would seem," she murmured softly as she regarded the young man in front of her, "You are troubled, what is your worry?"

Harry stared up at the woman in distrust for a few seconds, before taking the almost insignificant chance.

"Where am I?" Harry asked blandly, the question seeming to have lost all coherency upon his tongue.

"You're in Chicago," the woman said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Chicago," Harry repeatedly calmly, "Chicago as in United States Chicago?"

The woman's eyebrow arched up amusedly, along with the faintest twitch of her lips.

"I was not aware of the existence of any other," she said calmly, before she began to turn away.

"Wait!" Harry said a bit louder then he had intended to.

The suited woman paused in mid step, and turned back to Harry, gifting him with a peculiar look.

"Thank you," Harry said earnestly, before he began to stand up.

The woman inclined her head lightly with the faintest of smiles, before she began to walk away.

With the single dilemma he faced out of the way, Harry with a less pronounced frown than before began to plot out the next step of getting back home. Or he would have liked to, had he not noticed out of the corner of his eye that two non-descript men wearing grey cloaks appeared out of thin air in an alley across the street from him.

A sense of relief flooded Harry's body. It was the first sign of magic he had seen since he had come out of the forest, it was possible that they had sensed the magical rift and come to investigate it, or him, if they had a magic sensor overlaid on the area and had detected his Point-Me spell.

Harry opened his mouth to call out, but his word died upon his lips as both of the men withdrew a sword each from within their cloaks. he followed their line to sign to its destination and to Harry's chagrin it landed upon the woman who had spoken to him.

Millions of possibilities were running through Harry's mind, but there was one that stuck out from all the others, it was the only one that made sense to him at that point; The grey-cloaked wizards were America's Death Eaters, and the woman was their target. Considering her dress it wasn't hard for Harry to see her high ranked in a business, they could have been hired to kill off the competition, Harry reasoned.

Without a second though Harry began moving in the direction of their gaze; Towards the helpful, if not a little bit cold, woman.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Harry said politely as he came within range of the woman.

The woman turned around again, although her expression was as cold as before, and slightly distrusting, she hid it well though.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked politely, although her voice was stained with disapproval.

"What would you say if I said the word Magic?" Harry asked as evenly he could.

The woman's lips curved down in a slight frown as her purple tinged eyes stared down into Harry's.

"What if I said Grey cloaks?" Harry offered.

The reaction was almost instant; The woman's pupils narrowed, it was so sudden that harry had to stop himself from taking a step back at the sudden anger she showed.

"You are lucky we are in public, young man, or else you would not be getting away from here alive," the woman said with a calm voice.

"No offense, but I don't think those guys," Harry said, as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "Are going to care if it's public."

As if cued by his words a hiss like whistle filled the air. Harry barely had time to throw his hand out and shield himself before a Vorpal Blade of distorted air struck the shield. Sending Sparks of crimson energy flying everywhere, the force of the blow almost shattered the shield, but it remained intact. Unfortunately for Harry the same couldn't be said for him, the energy of the blade passed through the shield unto his body and sent him flying backwards uncontrollably.

Harry slammed into the outside of the building with enough force to cause him to almost scream out on reflex. But he managed to catch himself before the sounds left his lips, focusing instead on holding up the shield as the whistling sound filled the air once again.

"Run," Harry managed to grunt out, "Get away from here before the shield breaks!"

The woman remained still, staring in the direction where the attacks had come from, through the translucent and visibly damaged shield.

Harry gritted his teeth together as the attacks became visible in the air, moment before they slammed into the shield. Harry felt the wall behind him crack and indent as the energy transfered from the shield, to him, and then to the wall behind him.

Harry almost let out a sigh of relief; the pain hadn't been as intense as it had been before when he had nothing to transfer the energy through. The attacks were nothing like conventional spells, or physical blows. They had the energy of a spell and the force of a physical attack.

An eerie silence seemed to fill the air. It was a pause in the onslaught, and Harry took full advantage of it. Drawing in his concentration, Harry unleashed a barrage of non-verbal spells. A stream of multicoloured beams erupted from where Harry was as the shield infront of him faded away, all bearing down upon the area where he had sighted the men, and where the majority of the spells had come from.

"Why are you still standing there?" Harry demanded to know angrily as he sent a much larger than average stunning hex at the two men.

Without warning the moisture in the air all but evaporated. it was something Harry had only experienced a few times in his life, one of them being when he was in his fourth year and facing an overly maternal dragon. he knew that his shield wouldn't be enough to stop the flames, they would just smother the shield and flow over it; The only way to avoid it was to deflect it.

They did say that the best defense is a good offense, after all, and there was no greater offense than a supercharged meat pulverizing charm.

"_**Nisus**_!" Harry hissed out with all the focus he could manage, along with all the magical energy he could spare.

The effect wasn't instantaneous, but when it kicked in it was impressive. From his wand point a gigantic crack formed in the pavement,a few seconds later, the pavement, along with the tar of the road exploded outwards. The invisible spell tore forth toward the oncoming jets of flame, tearing up a deep trench in the ground.

The blast of pure kinetic energy met the flames head on, and for a moment it looked as if the flames were going to pass on unaffected by the spell, but it only lasted for a second. The flames began to curl in on themselves as a solid wall of energy tore through it's center. Harry hadn't been counting on the spell's initial effect to save him and the motionless woman behind him, he had been counting on the screwed up air current from the spell to throw the flames into disarray, and it succeeded.

A string of curses flew out of Harry's mouth as he heard a familiar whistling sound, and without a second thought he threw his hand outwards, towards the direction that the two men were in and re-erected his shield again, bracing himself for the impact he knew would come. Harry had to hold himself back from screaming out the more explicit words he could recall as he saw two of the Vorpal Air Blades burst out of the billowing fire. It would have been fine if they hadn't interacted with the fire, but they had.

Instead of being invisible, the blades were alight with flames trailing behind them, it seemed like the Grey Cloaks hadn't appreciated his retaliation. The projectiles collided with the shield, exploding in a shower of flames.

The Wizards seemed to have no interest in stopping again, or even taking a break. The barrage of spells was coming faster then prior, and the quantity and quality of the attacks were not faltering. He had to admit, they must have been well trained to delivery such an onslaught without weakening.

Harry felt his energy slowly being sapped away into the shield as it tried to maintain itself. he might have been able to hold them off for a significantly longer time if it had been any other day, but it wasn't. Harry found an odd comfort in that knowledge as his eyelids began to become heavy.

The last thing he saw, before he lost consciousness was the look upon the dark haired woman's face; it was unreadable.

* * *


	2. The Line

**Yo, ho, ho it's a writers life for me. Thanks to everyone over at DLP for picking apart the errors. And a further thanks to Sree or Tinn, depending on which one decides to properly beta the work. This was originally going to be composed of three scenes, but the first scene became too big, so it gets it's down chapter.**_  
_

**Jon**_  
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* * *

_Different groups throughout time have had different ways of recruiting people. The Mafia for example helps people when they get into tough situations with the law if they join up, which has a huge appeal for a lot of young people._

_The Freemasons never sought anyone out, they allowed their members to come to them. they however weren't above approaching people and telling them how much of a good Mason they could be, planting the seeds of curiosity, which would drive the person towards the fraternity._

_The Assassin's had a most peculiar, and interesting way of recruiting. They would steal away young men from their villages and bring them to their fortress, where they would be sent to a 'paradise' and then forcefully dragged back to reality, where they would see everything as mediocre, bland in comparison and would give anything to return to that paradise, even join the cause and risk death, just for a chance to return to that paradise._

_In my life I've been faced with all of these different methods of recruitment, and as you can probably guess, the last is the hardest to ignore, so hard that I was barely able to turn it down the first time._

* * *

Harry's eyes slowly opened, and as soon as they did, he wished he hadn't; no matter where he looked he could see nothing but white. He reached up to his face and frowned as he noticed the extra weight upon his wrist. A slight scowl made itself known upon his lips as his eyes, for a single moment, focused upon a blackened metal brace upon his wrist. He soon became aware of similar implements attached to his other wrist and both of his ankles. Whenever he tried to move there was a slight rattle of chains, causing Harry's scowl to deepen.

He took minor note of the lack of cloth covering his arm, before he traced it back to his body, and found, much to his annoyance, that he was clothed in nothing but his boxers. It was surprising, due to the lack of cold he felt, besides the metal shackled to him.

"Dammit," Harry murmured to himself with a slight hint of anger.

His head was pounding lightly, from the aftermath of the events before his lapse in consciousness. Harry after a few moments tried to lift his hand to his face, to block out some of the light which seemed to radiate from every inch of the white walls. He almost instantly regretted his actions as the links in the chain connected to the manacle on his wrist clattered. The sounds rang out loud reverberating however lightly off the walls. As slow as he could manage, Harry furled his limbs together against his body, trying to block out the hideous white that surrounded him.

The throbbing in Harry's head was slowly fading away, and it gave room for him to think, and piece together the previous events of the day. As usual, he had been compelled to save the Damsel in distress and gotten screwed over in some way or another. Today was something else though, it had happened not once, but twice and from the looks of it the second attempt had failed, and it had landed him in an unknown situation.

Either he had protected an innocent woman, and failed, in which case the woman was probably dead, and he was going to be tortured, and then killed. Or the Grey Cloaks had been the American version of Aurors, and he had just protected a criminal, in which case he was probably in jail. Either way he was screwed over, unless they were the nicest Dark Wizards he had ever met, or if he was alleviated for his fame.

It felt like hour's before Harry was ready to face the bright walls surrounding him.

There didn't seem to be any trace of an exit on any of the walls, although it could have just been his blurred up vision. Harry blinked confusedly as his eyes glazed over the floor; There was a curious pattern flowing across it, literally. Harry seized up for a few moments as he stared down at the floor. Harry snapped his head upwards and almost cursed himself for doing it as he stared up at the ceiling. It was covered in white, but it didn't have the same opacity as the walls, it was slightly translucent, enough so that he could see to the other side, to the bubbles rising upwards in furious torrents.

"Water," Harry said almost breathlessly, "Boiling hot water, no wonder it isn't cold."

Harry's eyes narrowed lightly.

The barrier between the water and the closed off room would have to be at least as thick as he was tall, and not conduct heat well for him to be feeling so little of the effects. But Harry didn't trust his eyes enough to base his actions off them.

He licked his lips nervously; He could possibly get the hand cuffs off with his special power, but it was dangerous. He wasn't nearly as talented in it as he'd need to be. Breaking off the handcuffs would be all too easy. But the efefcts of breaking them off might not be as easy to deal with. There was a slight chance the fragments could get him, and there was a chance that they would have enough force behind them that they'd pass right through him, leaving chunks of him missing. Not to mention that there was the smallest possibility that they coudl fracture the ceiling above and bring an impossible amount of seething down upon him, he'd have to deal with death by the sudden weight of the water crashing down on him, the prospect of drowning, and the whole scalding hot water thing all at the same time.

He wasn't sure how long, if his shield would hold up at all against the water. Specifically because it was only directional. In few more months he might have been able to cover himself completely, Harry thought bitterly.

Not a very promising option. It was a very humbling thought, that his magical ability may not be enough to save him. If he was able to wandlessly cast magic on the other hand, he'd be out of there in a flash, a quick unlocking charm and he'd be home free.

The sound of gears turning filled the room for a moment, before on the far side of the room the white wall shifted slightly, before it moved inwards, and then to the side, revealing two rather large men. Unfortunately for Harry without his glasses he could still see their faces.

They wouldn't be winning any awards for their looks.

"Damn, what happened to your nose," Harry said without thinking as he stared across at the deformed nose on the smaller of the two gorillas.

His answer came in the form of a swift kick to his legs.

Harry wisely didn't make any more comments about the deformed appearance of the larger Gorilla.

"Why did you protect the Miss Raith?" one of the men asked with a calm, and surprisingly high pitched voice.

Harry stared up confusedly for a few moments before it clicked in his head.

"I think that beating up hookers is wrong," Harry confessed as he slowly brought himself to his feet.

Almost as soon as he had managed to stand up straight, he was doubled over in pain as a gigantic fist rammed itself into him. Harry caught himself before he let out any noises which suggested he was in pain, but it probably didn't help much with his face contorted in agony.

"Let's try that again," the deformed man said evenly, with a slight hint of impatience in his voice.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me," Harry apologized half heartedly, "I meant to say whore, not Hook-" He continued to say, before he was cut off as the same fist found itself up and close with his spleen again, despite there being a layer of skin, blood, bones and organs between them. Harry gritted his teeth together as he ignored the sudden pain rushing outwards from his stomach.

"Who sent you?" The larger Ape demanded to know, his voice average compared to the Soprano next to him.

Harry's frowned for a moment in thought and indecision, before he leaned forwards, and motioned for both of the men to move closer. The larger, and now in Harry's opinion, slightly dumber man leaned forwards.

"The fairies sent me to tell you that you've been a bad boy," Harry with an apologetic voice.

The larger brute's eyes gleamed with anger after a few moments as his mind processed what had been said to him. However, before he was able to take another turn at 'Punch Harry in the stomach' his partner stopped him, by putting a hand on his shoulder.

Harry took special notice of the slight fear in the smaller man's eyes, considering his situation he did the only thing he could think of.

"Ooh, is somebody afraid of the tooth fairy here?" Harry asked, his voice overflowing with mocking concern.

This time it wasn't the larger of the two that decided to lash out physically.

"God damn, you both need anger management classes," Harry grunted out as his knee's finally buckled and he collapsed to his knees, his hand pressed up against the side of his face where he had been hit.

"What do you know about the faeries?"

Both Harry and the larger of the two men stared at the man with the deformed nose for a few seconds. Harry couldn't believe that the man was being serious, as it would seem, neither did King-Kong.

"Well," Harry began hesitantly, "I know that there's this one guy, a really powerful man..." the man leaned forward in anticipation. "Who can tell if you've been naughty or nice."

"Do you think you're funny wise guy?" he hissed out angrily.

Harry's brow furrowed for a moment.

"No," he said thoughtfully, "No, I know I'm funny."

An alluring laugh rang out, washing over both of the thugs and Harry, causing all three men to look towards the single known entrance to the cell. Unfortunately for Harry, both of them men were standing in front of him, and blocking his view.

"Miss Raith," the larger of the to 'interrogators' said respectfully, as he moved aside, allowing me to see the person at the door.

Harry didn't really need to see her. It had clicked instantly the moment he had heard the grunt repeat the name.

"Both of you leave, I'll have Madringal deal with you both later," the woman said calmly as she regarded both of the men in front of her.

"But, Miss Raith, your father said to-," the larger of the two men protested, but silenced himself as 'Miss Raith' raised her hand up.

"And I specifically said that Mr Potter was not to be disturbed until I had spoke with him, did I not?" she said, her voice remaining calmly, despite the obvious disapproval her words gave, "My father isn't even in the country."

Both of them men were about to voice their dissent, only to yet again, be silenced by a mere motion of Miss Raith's hand.

"Both of you will leave, right now," the dark haired woman repeated as if talking to children.

They complied, with more than a bit of reluctance, and left Harry alone, chained up with the woman. Harry studied the woman in silence, taking in the differences in her appearance.

The first and foremost that he noticed, was that the woman was no longer wearing her suit, instead she was draped in what seemed a very fine silver negligée. Her hair wasn't held up by the combs she had in it when he had first seen her; it was tied up loosely in a ponytail. Harry found himself slightly disappointed that he didn't have his glasses on him.

The two remained silent for a few moments, before Harry couldn't help himself.

"I never told you my last name," he said slowly as he stared across the room at the slightly blurred figure across from him.

"You didn't," Miss Raith agreed as she began to step forwards towards Harry.

Her hand reached up to the top of her negligée for a moment, before dipping slightly and pulling up what Harry recognized as his glasses.

"Would you like these back?" she inquired, offering them out to Harry.

Before Harry could answer, the woman was already moving towards him and opening the glasses up. He reached up towards his glasses, but found his hands batted down lightly. She slipped his glasses onto his face without any resistance, and kneeled down in front of him.

Harry blinked a few times to refocus his eyes on the woman in front of him. His eyes met hers for a moment but he quickly looked away and involuntarily leaned backwards. He'd seen that look in Ron's eyes before, specifically at dinnertime when he was looking over the food in the Great Hall.

"Why," Harry began to ask.

"Do I know your name?" the woman finished for him, with a light smile.

"No," Harry said, "Why do you look at me like I'm some kind of food?"

A genuine, if not slightly predatory smile developed on the the skimpily clad woman as she regarded the man in front of her.

"Because," she chided lightly, "You are food to me, and quite a delicious food at that."

"I'm not mere food," Harry spat out angrily as he shifted his legs out from underneath him.

"No," Miss Raith agreed, "You're not mere food, you're more of a delicacy."

"What are you, a cannibal?" Harry asked slowly, easing away ever so slowly from the woman in front of him.

"Do you really want to know?" the woman asked sultrily, leaning closer to Harry faster then he was leaning backwards.

Against his libido's wishes, Harry moved, and stayed out of reach of the dark haired woman's reach.

"Miss Raith," Harry began to say, before yet again he was interrupted.

"Lara," the woman across from him said suddenly, "Call me Lara."

Harry scowled for a moment, before nodding to himself.

"Lara, why am I chained to this wall and how did you know my name?" he managed to say as formally and sedately as possible, "How did we escape them? Why were they attacking you? Where are my clothes?" he finished with a demanding tone.

Lara clicked her tongue lightly as she looked at Harry, her lips quirked upwards in an amused smile.

"My, my, Harry, you want to know a lot, don't you?" she teased lightly.

"You're chained to the wall for a few reasons, the primary one being I didn't want you to run away before we could have a chance to chat a bit," she said idly as she reached towards Harry's face, only to have him flinch away, "I know your name, because it was in your belongings."

Harry's face must have shown off his relief, because Lara's amused smile quickly developed into an almost sadistic smirk.

"With your name I was able to find out the rest about you, Harry, it took a bit of talking to the right people, but in the end I was able to get my hands onto your life story," she murmured almost silently.

Harry was staring at Lara incredulously, and didn't move away as her hand reached forth yet again towards his forehead. Alarms began to sound in his head as her soft fingers brushed away the strands of hair hiding the fading scar upon his forehead.

"Or would you prefer to be called, The-Boy-Who-Lived? Or perhaps even, The Chosen One?" Lara traced her finger down the scar.

"Harry will be fine," Harry said as he turned away from Lara, "Since we're chatting can I get these off?" He pulled against the chains lightly, before glancing back at the grey eyed woman.

"Alright, Harry it is," Lara said with a kind smile, ignoring Harry's request.

"To answer your other questions, after you fainted-"

"Passed out," Harry interrupted quickly.

"Pardon?" Lara's smile was tinted with confusion.

"I didn't faint, I passed out," Harry insisted.

"Right," Lara said with a bemused voice, " After you, passed out, the people who attacked me ran away," she allowed a coy smile to form upon her lips, "Thank you for coming to my aid."

"If you want to thank me you could take off these chains," Harry said flatly as he yanked against the chain attached to his right wrist.

Harry's eyes widened as a series of clicking sounds reverberated from inside the wall behind him. Before he could react, his arm was snapped backwards and he had to hold back a grunt as he found his wrist pinned against the wall behind him, forcing him to quickly rise to his feet in an effort to not dislocate his wrist.

"What the hell?!" Harry exclaimed as he pulled against the chain, trying to free his hand.

Another series of clicks sounded out, and the chain on Harry's left wrist tugged against his wrist for a few seconds with resistance, before, as what had happened with his right hand, it was jerked backwards and held in place against the wall behind him. Harry threw Lara a dirty look, only for it to morph into a full blown glare at the amusement she openly displayed at his predicament.

"What did you do?" Harry demanded to know as he continued to pull against the chains.

Lara allowed a light laugh; the same one that she had used when she had entered the room, at Harry's question. It only resulted with Harry glaring at her again.

"I didn't do anything to you, silly boy," she drawled with a slightly mocking tone, "When you pulled too hard they restrained you," she said a-matter-of-factly as she slowly rose back up to her feet.

"Can you let them slacken?" Harry asked, allowing the anger written on his face to fade away, "Please?" he added on hopefully.

"Oh?" Lara enunciated in mild surprise, "You'd accept help from a hooker such as I?" she finished innocently.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, "You heard that?" he asked docilely.

"Imagine my surprise when you said that, after our slight misunderstanding about the meat comment," Lara continued to say as she reached across the short distance between her and Harry and lightly caressed his cheek with her finger tips.

Harry bit down on his lip for a moment, before mumbling something out.

"Pardon?" Lara murmured with a smile as her hand trailed downwards over Harry's neck.

"Sorry," Harry repeated as he leaned to the side slightly, away from the dark haired woman's touch.

"That's better," Lara declared with a grin, "One must always remember to keep in mind other's feelings, even when baiting low IQ men."

Harry's eyes narrowed in an inexplicable fashion, which Lara seemed to notice straight away.

"I wasn't talking about you," Lara assured Harry.

"You didn't answer all my questions," Harry said quietly.

Harry and Lara regarded each other quietly for a few moments in silence, before it was compromised by Lara.

"They weren't attacking me, they were attacking my family, The Raith family name is very high profile, my father and relatives own very lucrative shares in a lot of businesses, and we are very well placed socially. There are quite a few people who would not bat an eyelash if I died, or any of my family members," Lara said quietly, almost hesitantly.

Harry remained silent for a few more seconds, contemplating what the woman across from him had just said.

"Lara..." Harry said quietly, his gaze falling to the floor.

"Yes, Harry?" Lara breathed out slowly, inching slightly closer.

"Where are my damn clothes?!" Harry snapped out as he turned his head back up, glaring at Lara accusingly.

Lara blinked in a stuporous manner.

"I burned them," Lara said calmly.

She didn't even flinch when Harry released a series of very explicit words.

"I liked those clothes!" He exclaimed angrily.

"I've already gotten you some more clothes," Lara said soothingly.

Harry allowed an aggravated sigh to escape him.

"You know this feels really weird," Harry commented, as he glanced to both his arms, which were being held up at at angle slightly lesser then the floor.

"If you'd just relax you'd be released," Lara explained as her eyes raked over Harry's lower abdomen.

"They hit you pretty hard," she observed.

A snort issued from Harry's nose as he looked down at his stomach.

"I've had worse done to me by pre-teen girls," Harry said scathingly to Lara, only to shut up instantly as she pressed her hands forwards against his abdomen. He had to literally hold himself back from letting out a girlish whimper from the pain.

"Must have been some pretty tough pre-teens," Lara retorted as she stopped pressing against his bruising stomach.

"You have no idea," Harry grunted out.

"I answered your questions" Lara stated casually as she let the pressure she was putting on Harry fade away.

"You did," Harry said in a slightly uneven voice.

"Now, will you answer mine?" Lara asked, "It's only fair," she continued o say at the look of wariness on Harry's face.

"Alright," Harry said slowly.

"What happened to the Philosopher's stone?" Lara asked as she gently caressed Harry's stomach with the back of her finger tips.

"It was destroyed," Harry said without hesitation.

Lara allowed a frown to overcome her features.

"Are you sure?" she asked questioned, bringing her hand up to Harry's cheek, and gently cupping it.

Harry almost let out a gasp as a spasm of raw physical need swept through him, but as soon as it had risen up it faded away, leaving a hazy feeling of desire at the forefront of Harry's mind.

Harry nodded numbly as he lightly nuzzled Lara's hand.

"Alright," Lara said kindly as she slowly wrapped her arms around Harry's torso and gently lowered him down to the ground.

Harry blinked slowly as he felt the chains slacken.

"Hey," Harry said accusingly, "I thought you said you couldn't get these off me?"

"No," Lara disagreed, "I said it wasn't my fault that they restrained you."

"Oh," Harry said flatly, his previous indignation gone.

Lara smiled down at Harry and gently maneuvered him head onto her lap, where she casually ran her fingers through his hair. Carefully she pulled his glasses away and placed them beside her, before beginning to play with his fringe.

"How did you kill Voldemort?" she asked gently, continuing her ministrations.

Harry let out a sigh of comfort as he rested his head upon the silky texture of Lara's negligée.

"Harry?" Lara said softly, holding her hand still for a few moments.

"I didn't kill him," Harry murmured softly as he stared at the translucent ceiling.

"You didn't?" Lara echoed in slight surprise, but did not stop playing with his hair, "Did someone else do it for you?"

"I couldn't kill him, he was too strong... too smart, I was only able to banish him," Harry susurrated, his voice tainted with shame.

"You did a good thing," Lara said soothingly, "If you hadn't managed to stop him, he would have hurt a lot more people."

"That's very impressive though," Lara continued to praise, "I wasn't aware that anyone was young as you could do something like that, especially since you weren't born into that kind of magic."

"Kind of magic?" Harry echoed confusedly only for his eyes to shutter closed as Lara ran her fingers down his cheek.

"Shh," Lara murmured softly, "Don't think too much, just enjoy this, I don't do it for just anyone."

Harry slowly turned his head upon it's side and nuzzled Lara's thighs gently.

"Don't do that," Lara reprimanded lightly as she brushes a few strands of hair out of Harry's eyes.

"How did you learn that kind of magic?" Lara asked gently, as she repeatedly brushed the unruly mop of raven hair down, seemingly fighting a losing battle.

Harry suddenly tensed as he debated, for the first time since he had laid his head upon the silver eyed woman's lap, whether or not to answer her.

"Harry?" Lara pressed lightly, allowing her hand to drift downwards onto his neck. She gently brushed her knuckles against the under side of his jaw, before trailing her finger tips upwards, back onto the top of his head.

Again, a spasm of pure physical need ran through Harry's veins. It lasted slightly longer then the first, but left the same results. The same almost unnatural, unanchored desire filled Harry's mind completely.

Despite the almost overwhelming sensations running rampant throughout Harry's body, he was still able to keep enough of his thoughts in order to know what he didn't want to talk about. Harry shook his head lightly against Lara, and almost let out a sound of protest as her hand became still upon his head.

"Alright, we don't have to talk about that," Lara said slowly, albeit slightly disappointedly as she continued to move her fingers through Harry's hair.

"What are you doing to me?" Harry demanded to know through an involuntary shudder, as he pulled his away from Lara's hand, and moved his head out of her lap.

"Just helping you relax," Lara answered with an almost affectionate smile.

"You're doing something else," Harry stated as he shook his head and leaned back against the slightly cold, in comparison, wall.

"It felt good, did it not?" Lara purred out as she reached towards Harry again, "If it feels good, why worry?"

"Just because it feels good doesn't make it alright," Harry spat out as Lara's words rung out within his mind, decimating the aftermath of the desire that had rushed through him.

"I didn't force you to do anything," Lara pointed out softly, "I only did it to make you feel more comfortable."

"That's besides the point," Harry said uncertainly, his discontent fading away.

Lara sighed softly.

"Would you like me to treat you like the people in this room are usually treated?" Lara asked exasperatedly.

What would that involve?" Harry inquired warily.

Lara shrugged her shoulders lightly.

"Torture mostly," she said with a small wink.

"No thank you then," Harry refused politely.

"Two more questions then," Lara said as she brought her hand up to her lips and rubbed them thoughtfully.

Harry nodded to himself lightly as he turned his attention to the open door on the opposite side of the room. He allowed his tongue to roll over his lips quickly moistening them. The only thing between him and escaping were the chains on his wrists. He was feeling slightly restless; the prospect of getting out of the room was tempting, enough that he would risk bodily harm of himself, and the possible death by trauma, drowning, and burning of not only himself, but the nice woman who had treated him with nothing that deserved that kind of death.

Harry turned his attention back to Lara, only to find her looking at him expectantly.

"Well," she pressed lightly as she brushes a single stray strand of hair off of her nose behind her ear.

"Did you ask something?" Harry asked apologetically.

Lara gave Harry a bemused look before she repeated herself

"Why are you in Chicago?"

"I didn't come here to do anything, I'm not even supposed to be here," Harry said with a light frown.

"How did you get here?" Lara tried, "The last known sightings of you just under a day ago said you were still in London."

"I don't know how I got here," Harry said irritatedly as he folded his arms across his chest, careful not to agitate the chains too much, "I was in London not even half an hour before I met you on the street, and most of that half an hour was asking people where I was."

"What were you doing before you arrived here?" Lara asked, biting down on her lip lightly.

"That's six questions," Harry said slyly, "I only asked you five."

Lara waved her hand dismissively, "You haven't answered the past two questions acceptably, and these are all part of the same question in the end."

Harry blinked lightly, before nodding to himself.

"I was at a Night club," he answered simply, before taking in Lara's perplexed look, "What?" he said defensively.

Lara let out a slight laugh at Harry's reaction.

"Nothing, it's just your file said that you were introverted, and going to a nightclub doesn't exactly say that about you," Lara said with a beguiling smile.

"How am I introverted?" Harry inquired curiously, although his voice had more than a small amount of irritation conveyed with it.

"Well, according to what I read, your circle of friends consisted with only two people, one Ronald Weasley, and one Hermione Granger. Only a few years ago it seemed you extended this to one Ginevra Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and..." Lara trailed off.

"And?" Harry pressed, having a fairly good idea of whose name would come next.

"One Miss Luna Lovegood," Lara said through a chuckle, "You know out of those names, and your own, hers is the only one I like?"

"What's wrong with their names and mine?" Harry asked sourly, levelling a light glare at Lara.

Another alluring laugh flew from her lips as she regarded the younger man in front of her.

"Are you joking with me Harry _Potter_? Even you have to admit, as their friend that their names are laughable." Lara mocked Harry lightly.

"Just ask your last question," Harry said with a sigh.

"Very well," Lara said, her laugh fading away.

Slowly she began rise to her feet, leaving Harry staring at her legs, before he tilted his head upwards to her face.

"Your file said that you wanted to be an.. Auror, I believe the word was," Lara stated as she stared down at Harry, "What do you plan to do, now that you are free from a position that I assume you'd thought that would last most of your life?"

"Ah!" Lara exclaimed as Harry was about to speak, "Tell me the truth, don't make it up, I'll know if you do."

Harry allowed a light scowl to pass over his face for a brief second, before it caved in and he smiled amusedly.

"I have no plans, I have no intention of being an Auror right now, especially with the current ministry. To be honest I'd accept pretty much any job that'd have me because of what I can do, not who I am," Harry professed.

Lara blinked owlishly for a few moment.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry answered confusedly, "Why?"

"Well, I had assumed I'd have to pressure you into working for my family," Lara said through a laugh, "That's a relief, I didn't want to force you into working for me."

"Working for you?" Harry repeatedly dumbly, "I never said I'-"

"It's settled!" Lara exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, "Your attire for today should arrive soon."

Harry stared in disbelief up at Lara.

"I never said that I'd work for you," Harry pointed out, "In fact the entire situation makes me want to just walk away."

"Oh Harry," Lara murmured in a sad and strangely affectionate way as she leaned forwards and placed her hand under Harry's chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. "You still don't get it..." she almost whispered out, leaning ever closer.

Lara's lips claimed his slowly. There was no passion involved, no feelings, it was just a kiss. Harry at first considered leaning back and breaking away, but he found himself unable with no fault to magic. He could tell that beneath the lack of concern Lara exhibited for the kiss, she was holding herself back. The slight twitch of her lips was barely noticeable, but it was there. It wasn't long before Harry couldn't help himself, and responded in kind, melding his lips against hers.

All too soon for Harry's liking he felt Lara's lips slowly drew themselves away from his. he went to follow the, but found himself unable to; Lara's hand had slipped down onto his chest and held him in place.

"You don't have a choice in this Harry, you only have the illusion of choice," Lara said softly, allowing a satisfied smile to cross her face at the look of disappointment upon Harry's face.

Harry swallowed a small amount of saliva that had built up in his mouth over the course of the kiss. He wanted to be stubborn, to refute the woman in front of him, but he found himself unable.

"What would you have me do?" Harry asked quietly as his eyes closed up, blocking out the lovely figure in front of him.

Lara regarded the black haired man in front of her with a pleased expression seated upon her face.

"I would have you protect my family," Lara answered simply as she straightened up once again.

Everything in Harry's mind screamed at him to reject it. To reject her, no matter the consequences. But he couldn't. There was an ache in his chest which wouldn't go away. He felt useless, there was nothing he felt he could do without losing a part of himself. The part that had always been risen to the challenge when he was eleven and had continued to do so for his entire life.

Could he be satisfied with a Nine to five job? He honestly didn't know. He'd never tried it, and there was a chance he'd like it. The same thing day after day, no people trying to kill him. That was if he disregarded the one job he'd be good at. If he did go with being an Auror he'd have to deal with those situations.

"Lara?" Harry called out as quietly as he had spoken before.

"Yes, Harry?" Lara answered almost immediately, her eyes expectant.

"What do you do for a living?" He asked, his eyes focused upon the floor between his and Lara's feet," When I saw you before you were wearing a suit, so are you like a head of a company or something?"

"Would you like the elegant name for it, or the common name?" Lara asked calmly.

"Common works for me," Harry said with a slight shrug.

Had Harry looked up, he would have seen the slight pout that had formed upon Lara's lips, moments before she answered.

"I'm a Porn Star," Lara said nonchalantly.

Harry's head snapped upwards and his eyes met Lara's with an incredulous gaze. He opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again tightly.

"Out with it," Lara said as she rolled her eyes.

"Why?" Harry managed to say after a few more moments of being stunned.

"It would be futile to explain to you," Lara said with a tone of finality that Harry was sure that even Dumbledore couldn't have managed.

But even Dumbledore's attempts to dissuade him had failed when he was alive.

"I mean, you're good looking and all, I'm sure you're a hit," Harry began to say, his eyes flickering down past Lara's neckline of their own accord, "I'm sure there are better jobs then spreading your legs in front of a camera," stated blankly, a slight blush staining his cheeks.

Lara's eyes narrowed for a single moment, before her lips curved upwards in a sultry smile, causing Harry to shift uncomfortably for a moment and turn his gaze to the side, away from her face.

"So crude, and naive," Lara murmured as she pressed her hand against the top of Harry's head, and ran her fingers through his hair.

Harry shook his head, trying to remove Lara's hand from his head, but he was unable to.

"I'll make you a deal Harry," Lara said slowly, lifting her hand up off of Harry's head, "If you can look me in the eyes, and tell me that you don't want me truthfully, despite my profession, I will let you leave, in fact I'll book you a flight back to London, first class."

Harry inhaled through his nose suddenly. It seemed easy enough, just tell Lara that he didn't find her attractive. That was the easy part, the hard part was being honest about it. Something he wasn't sure he could do. He could still taste her lips upon his, the sensation was so unlike the kisses he had received from Cho and Ginny it was remarkable. It had just been a kiss, nothing more, nothing less.

"I," Harry began to say, before hesitating.

"Yes?" Lara urged Harry on calmly.

"I don't... understand why," Harry admitted, "Why would you choose that for yourself."

Lara allowed a genuine, if not slightly cold smile to overtake her features.

"I'd be concerned for you if you did," She murmured as she replaced her hand upon Harry's head and gently dragged her fingertips across his scalp.

"I can't say it," Harry said miserably, "No matter how badly I want to deny it I can't."

"I know," Lara breathed out softly, "That is why i chose it," she finished almost silently, but Harry still heard it.

His head lowered slightly in resignation.

"I could still just escape once I get my wand back," He muttered to himself, almost absently.

"But you won't," Lara said calmly as her finger tips tailed down from the top of Harry's head to his cheek, "You won't run from this."

"You don't know that," Harry louder then he had before.

"You're the only one your words are fooling, Harry," Lara chided softly as she withdrew her hand from Harry's face, "It seems as though your clothing is here," she said, almost disappointedly.

"Lara, I've brought what you asked for," a demure voice murmured from near the exit to the room.

"Thank you Inari," Lara said softly, "Please bring them over here, and help me unchain my guest."

A girl who looked to be a little younger than Harry walked into Harry's view. She was pretty, her clothing did little to hide her body type; She was more awkwardly skinny than sleek. Her skin was the colour of cream, and her dark hair was tied back in the same manner as Lara's. She wore a lavender replica of Lara's negligee.

"Isn't he a bit younger then usual?" the girl asked through a slight yawn, "I brought your whip also, incase you wanted to use it, Lara."

"Look who's talking," Harry said bluntly, before blinking in confusion, and worry, "Wait whip?" Harry asked quickly.

The girl's face seemed to flicker for a moment between a frown and an amused smile. Harry had to admit the frown she was able to give didn't look natural at all on her. On the other hand, the smile seemed to fit perfectly.

"I'll have you know I'm a virgin," the girl said happily, sticking her tongue out at Harry as she dropped the bundle of clothes onto the ground in front of Harry.

"Thank you Inari," Lara said with an amused smile upon her face as she reached down and folded away the top most article of clothing, revealing a wicked looking whip, "He's a virgin too," she added on in an afterthought.

Lara's eyes sparkled with something akin to sadism, causing Harry to inch away ever slightly.

"Do you want to have him for yourself?" she teased Inari lightly, winking at her.

Harry and Inari both protested at the same time; Harry saying he wouldn't sleep with her, and Inari saying she didn't want to sleep him him. They both stopped at the same time and gave each other a vaguely insulted look.

Lara allowed herself a light laugh as she held her hand out to Inari. Who stared at it blankly for a few moments, before her eyes lit up in understanding.

"Right! The key," she exclaimed as she bent down and fumbled with the clothes for a second, before pulling a key out, "Here you go," she passed the key to Lara, who was looking at Harry.

"Thank you," Lara said before motioning for Harry to bring his hands forward and curling her whip up and slipping her shoulder through the loop it created.

Harry obediently lifted his arms up from his side and held them out to Lara. Within seconds the cuffs had dropped from his wrists. Lara crouched quickly and repeated the procedure with Harry's ankles, before straightening up once again.

"Get dressed," she said simply, before turning around and walking out of the room.

Inari gave Harry a peculiar glance, before smiling and walking after Lara. Out of the room.

Harry's heart thudded in his chest, and not because of the two Raith women who were walking out of his cell. He ran his fingers over the indents on his wrists where the cuffs had dug into his skin. Without the danger of flooding the room he could easily escape. A quick shield to knock the two down and give himself a head start and he would be able to at least give himself a chance to escape. They had left him by himself, probably because there was only one way out of the room.

Then, on the other hand there was the small matter of him abusing their 'hospitality', and what they'd possibly do if he was caught.

As Harry slipped on his clothes he came to the conclusion that either way he'd be able to escape if he was required to. With that knowledge in mind he strode out of the Cell, into the equally white, and even more bright corridor connected to the under water room. He saw, a few meters down Lara standing next to Inari, talking quietly amongst themselves. Lara's eyes flickered upwards to him.

"You take almost as long as I do to get dressed," Lara drawled out in amusement, before she turned away from Inari and began walking off along the corridor.

Inari stayed still and waited for Harry to catch up, before smiling brightly at him.

"We got off on a weird foot," she said as she turned and began to walk with Harry, "So, how about we start over?"

Harry stared at Inari silently for a moment.

It would be rude not to reply nicely. But he hadn't been having a lot of luck with the female variety of his species. Inari seemed friendly, but then, so had May, and she had somehow gotten him into a situation where he found himself on a completely different continent. Then again, the anxious gleam in Inari's eyes told him she wasn't entirely trusting of him. But then again, he doubted he would if he met someone in his position.

Inari bit down on her lip as she waited for his response.

Harry sighed internally; he couldn't fault her for something that hadn't happened, and had a huge chance of not happening at all, especially since he didn't know what could happen.

"I'd like that," Harry said with a small smile.

He was rewarded with a smile in return, three times as big.

"I'm Inari," the dark haired girl told Harry, "Your turn," she said grinning.

A small laugh escaped Harry involuntarily. The girl's cheerfulness was contagious.

"I'm Harry, and it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, winking lightly at Inari, she responded in kind with a laugh.

"You're British?" Inari questioned curiously. Following Harry's look of surprise, Inari couldn't help but grin, "Your accent is a dead give-away."

"Ah, you got me pegged," Harry admitted.

"How long have you been in Chicago?" Inari asked, glancing ahead to Lara, who was just within listening distance.

Harry frowned lightly.

"Did Lara put you up to this?" Harry accused blankly.

Inari shook her head lightly.

"No, when I asked her about you she wouldn't tell me anything, so," Inari trailed off, allowing her gaze to fall to the side.

"Sorry," Harry said in spite of himself, "The last few days haven't had me at my best."

"That's alright," Inari said softly, "I shouldn't pester you so much, you're probably leaving soon anyway." A small frown appeared on Inari's face.

"No, It looks like I'll be around for a while," Harry said without thinking. He smiling at Inari lightly, ignoring the fact that it was his choice whether or not he had just lied or had told the truth to her.

The effect was instantaneous, Inari's face was overtaken by a smile again, not as big as it had been prior, but it was a lot better than the frown she had been sporting seconds before.

Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes as the three transversed the corridors.

"I only got here yesterday," Harry said as he glanced back to Inari.

"Oh," Inari said with a small bit of surprise, "Why were you chained up like that then?"

Inari's eyes widened slightly.

"You and Lara aren't, you know, are you?" Inari asked quickly, making a few weird connecting motions with her hands.

Harry blinked perplexedly.

"I just met her yesterday," Harry explained.

Inari's mouth formed an 'o' momentarily, before she grinned sheepishly at Harry.

"I was kidding about before you know," Inari said quickly afterwards.

"About what?" Harry questioned confusedly.

"About Lara usually having men down there," Inari said guiltily, lowering her gaze to the ground.

Harry stared at Inari bemusedly for a few moments, before glancing ahead to Lara, who had paused at the final door.

Harry leaned closer to Inari and cupped his hand to her ear.

"I don't know whether to be thankful or afraid," he whispered, Inari giggled, "Although it might be both," he added in an after though.

"I would have tied you to my bed, but you would have gotten the wrong idea," Lara said smoothly as she turned her head around and smirked lightly at Harry.

Harry briefly looked like a deer caught in the headlights before Lara allowed a laugh to flow past her lips.

"How did you hear that?" Harry asked, before turning to Inari, and opening his mouth, only to snap it shut as Inari shrugged lightly.

"Alright," Lara exclaimed, clapping her hands together and focusing on Harry, "From here on you're a guest in full context, so no trying to run away, or else someone might get the wrong idea."

Harry nodded slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of what 'the wrong idea' could be, and what it would mean for him.

He doubted it would be a good thing.

"Here we go," Lara said as she pulled the door open. Beyond it was a metal structure about the size of a small room. It wasn't solid and was surrounded in cement.

Harry looked uncertainly at it as both Lara and Inari stepped through the door onto it. It shifted slightly from side to side. Hary stepped through the door onto the structure, which was suspended in the air.

"How far underground are we?" Harry asked as calmly as he could, ignoring the darkness which seemed to go on as far as he could see through the mesh covered floor.

"A few hundred metres," Lara said, looking to Inari for confirmation.

She received a small shrug in return.

"Why so deep?" Harry questioned as he felt the elevator shudder into motion, he almost lost his balance, but luckily was able to steady himself with one of the rails.

"Makes it harder to escape from," Lara informed Harry as she traced the texture of the long length of interwoven leather which rested upon her shoulder.

"Are you kidding?" Harry asked increduously, "There is no way I could get out of here."

"That's the idea," Lara agreed.

Inari leaned over close to Harry, and placed her lips next to his ear.

"It's also because some of the family valubles are down there, Daddy won't even let me see any of them, he told me he'd let me look through the stuff when I'm older though, which seems like a lame excuse," she whispered so softly that Harry was almost unable to hear her.

"We're here," Lara announced, just in time for Harry and Inari to look up.

* * *

**Opinions requested.**


	3. The Sinker

**Sorry for taking so long, you probably thought I had dumped it. Been busy, and I'll be dead on my back for the next few weeks, so hopefully I'll have time to write, eh? The formatting is probably off, and for that I'm sorry, but you should be able to make do. Cheers to Vash and Anna over at DLP, they're precious little cherubs for betaing this. (Kill them if there are too many errors.)**

**Jon**

**P.S; The online editor is being a slag. :(**

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_"The worse kinds of decisions are the one's where there is never a better choice, where you have to decide between those you care about, and your own morals. These are the kind of decisions which you never have a true choice in. If you're a nice person and you love your friends, you've already chosen to sacrifice your own well being for them. If you aren't, then you've already decided that they aren't worth giving into the demands for. If you're the second kind of person, you'll no doubt try and rationalize the decision; if your friends are threatened with violence you'll declare to yourself that you'll protect them, or that they will be able to protect themselves. If you're the first, then the only thing you can do is make the best of your situation."_

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The moment the doors opened, a gust of cold air hit Harry. Beside him Inari shivered lightly, the thin material of her negligee did as little to protect her from the cold as it did to conceal her body. Lara on the other hand seemed undisturbed by the chilly night air, despite wearing an almost replica of Inari's attire.

Beyond the door, the darkness seemed to held back only by the smallest of lights etched around the edge of a lavish garden. It was hard to tell with the little light that illuminated the grounds. Overhead a canopy blocked out the light of the moon and the stars except for a few beams of light which managed to break through.

"Would you prefer to finalize the details of your contract with us, or would you like to tour the grounds first, and stretch your limbs?" Lara asked as she glanced towards Harry.

"A walk would be enjoyable," Harry admitted, "But if it's all the same to you, could I get my Wa-"

"Your wallet?" Lara interjected, squinting her eyes at Harry, with a small smile upon her lips.

"That's right," Harry said slowly as he titled his head to the side and glanced at Inari, and then back to Lara.

Unseen by Inari, Lara inclined her head slightly.

"You shouldn't worry about your money," Inari said to Harry in an amused voice, "Especially since you're going to be working for us," she finished coyly, her eyes flickering between the area ahead and Harry's face.

Harry sent a questioning look to Lara, only to receive a slightly smug smile in return, as she explained.

"Inari is home schooled, so she doesn't get to meet a lot of people around her age," Lara smiled down at Inari, who wore a mortified look upon her face, "Specifically boys," the tall dark haired woman finished.

"Really?" Harry inquired, "I did my schooling in a boarding school," Harry mused, ignoring the latter part of what Lara had said.

"Wasn't it boring?" Inari asked curiously, "I've heard that they make you work almost all the time, and you barely ever get any breaks."

Harry frowned.

"Boring is pretty much the opposite of what it was, every year something always happened," Harry explained as he reached up and lightly massaged the back of his neck, "I doubt I was ever bored, except when I had to do my homework."

"I bet you're making that up," the younger girl challenged with a light smirk.

Harry briefly smiled and shook his head lightly at Inari, before he answered.

"My first year there, a teacher tried to steal a precious gem that the school was hosting for the year, it was a one of a kind," Harry said slowly as he reworked the actual tale.

"So modest," Lara murmured to herself, loud enough for Inari to overhear.

"Modest?" Inari echoed.

"He forgot to mention that he was one of the people who caught the thief," Lara divulged, taking a small pleasure in the way that Harry squirmed.

"That's impressive," Inari gushed, "But, you couldn't have been that old if it was your first year, how old were you?

Harry shrugged lightly.

"Eleven," Harry answered simply, ignoring the surprised look on Inari's face.

"And the year after that he managed to capture a very dangerous snake and save the school from being closed down," Lara explained helpfully to Inari.

"My friend Hermione did most of the work," Harry pointed out to Lara.

Lara arched an eyebrow at Harry challengingly.

"As far as I am aware you were the one that managed to kill the snake," Lara stated with a light shrug of her shoulders.

"Just how detailed were those files you read?" Harry asked casually, although he getting uncomfortable with the sheer knowledge the older Raith possessed.

Lara stared at Harry pensively for a moment, before allowing a smile to appear on her lips again. She moved closer to Harry and then lifted her hand up to his arm. She hooked her arm around his lightly and rested her hand upon his left bicep.

"They're detailed enough that I know where it bit you," the grey eyed woman declared with a smile of an unknown quality.

On Harry's opposite side Inari was getting slightly uncomfortable, which Harry took note of. He had no doubt that Lara had also.

"What about the other years?" Inari finally managed to ask in a hesitant voice.

"The next year I found out my Godfather who was in prison was falsely accused, the year after that I was illegally entered into a contest between my school and two others," Harry quickly noticed the Look upon Inari's face, "I didn't enter myself, another guy did, who was arrested for it."

Inari blinked perplexedly but nodded.

"The next two years.. Are hard to explain," Harry finished lamely, ignoring the disappointed look upon Inari's face.

"Come on, you could just simplify them like you did for those ones," Inari said with a small pout.

"Why are you asking all the questions?" Harry asked flatly.

Inari shrugged her shoulders in the same way Lara had previously.

"What do you want to know about me?" She inquired with a small grin.

Harry blinked, he seemed to flounder for a moment, before a random question came to the front of his mind.

"What's your favourite colour?" Harry asked postulated.

"Purple," Inari answered without hesitation.

"Right," Harry said with a strained voice as he turned away his head away from Inari and pried Lara off his arm, despite how comfortable it felt.

"You're no fun," Lara complained mildly, despite releasing Harry's arm without a struggle.

"So where are we going?" Harry asked after a few seconds of silence.

"To the mansion first of all, then I will be showing you around," Lara explained as her feet weaved over the neatly kept grass, "It is up to Inari what she does."

"I might join you," Inari stated after a few moments, "But if it gets too late I'll have to go to bed," she added on in an afterthought.

Harry ignored the banter between the two girls and stared ahead, past the small pathway through the thickest part of the foliage. The garden was becoming clearer, no doubt thanks to the light pushing through into the enclave.

"Where should we take him first?" Inari asked thoughtfully, "Maybe the lounge room, the one with the fireplace!" she exclaimed brightly.

"Or we could work our way inside," Lara said smoothly, a light smirk placed upon her features, "Starting with the swimming pool."

Inari deflated visibly.

"But it's even colder there," she complained, as she folded her arms across her chest.

"You are the one who wanted to tag along," Lara pointed out amusedly, "I'm sure Harry won't mind if it's just me and him."

"It's okay," Inari said grudgingly as she sent an irritated glance in Lara's direction.

"Don't I get a say?" Harry asked amusedly.

He suddenly felt stupid for a reason he could not express as both Lara and Inari turned their eyes upon him and stared silently.

"Guess not," he mumbled to himself.

The trees appeared to melt away the closer they got. Harry likened the experience to the first time he saw Hogwarts, although not even close to the degree. The view of the mansion put an imposing pressure over Harry. Where Hogwarts had given him a sense of warmth and wonder, the Raith Mansion filled him with a mild sense of foreboding.

It probably came from the vicious looking gargoyles stationed at each corner of the mansion that he could see. Harry switched his gaze back down to the area around him, which he, and the two Raith girls were walking through. They had exited from what looked like a forest. It opened up into what was obviously a garden. The garden that seemed to span for quite some distance, it was dark though, so Harry couldn't be entirely sure.

A bed of roses seemed to line the edges of the garden, as far as Harry could see, he couldn't decide whether the sight was impressive, or tacky. The vines which the roses blossomed on were old, some of them were almost as thick as Harry's thumb. At the bases of the roses a series of soft blue and green lights shone up against the rose vines. They cast eerie shadows and made the roses appear black. They also illuminated wicked looking thorns which seemed to sprout every so often. They gave off a heady scent, which seemed to perpetuate throughout the garden.

Neither Inari nor Lara seemed to be affected by the smell. They continued to walk on, ignorant of the poignant fragrance. Whether because they were used to it, or couldn't smell it, Harry could only guess.

"You know," Lara said idly to Inari, "It's going to be cold by the pool, are you sure you want to come?" she asked slyly, throwing a slightly lecherous glance to Inari.

Inari seemed to look confused for a moment, before her eyes flashed with understanding, her arms tightened across her chest momentarily, much to Harry's confusion. Lara laughed lightly, causing Harry's stomach to quiver momentarily.

"Lara!" Inari protested through Lara's laugh.

"Did I miss something?" Harry asked perplexedly, glancing between the two dark haired girls.

"No," Inari denied quickly, sending a warning glance towards Lara, who just continued smiling languidly

"Right," Harry drawled sarcastically, "So how far are we away from the pool?"

"It's just around the corner," Inari said stiffly.

It was, literally, Harry noticed as a he rounded the corner and was struck with a view of a gigantic pool, lit up with aqua coloured lights from beneath the water's surface. Although, Harry realized, it was probably the water that gave it that colour.

"Is that Thomas?" Lara asked rhetorically.

Harry's eyes flickered in the direction that Lara was looking. At the opposite end of the pool two people were sitting down at the edge of the water, with their feet dangling over the water.

One of the two was a girl, even from the distance Harry could see she had a beauty about her comparable to Lara, although she seemed to not be more then four years older then him. Her Black hair hung around her head with her fringe tucked behind her ears. Her face was hard to describe, it was both lovely to behold and sweet. Unlike both Inari and Lara the girl was wearing evening clothing; a black dress, it was not overly fancy, nor was it bland.

Harry's eyes slid across from the girl to the man next to her.

His blood ran cold.

"Did you say his name was Thomas?" Harry asked quietly, his knuckles had begun to turn white.

Beside him, Lara's visage took on a look of confusion, before her face morphed into a look of slight horror. The horror had no doubt come from the fact that as had happened when she had first met him, his magic had begun to react violently, following in suit with the sudden rage that had overtaken him.

It withered almost instantly, as an inexplicable burst of lust disrupted the flow of hatred. His magic died down again, becoming docile.

"Are you alright Harry?," Inari asked concernedly from a meter away, "You look like you just had an aneurysm or something."

Harry nodded blankly, before glancing sidewards to Lara, whose hand was lightly touching his shoulder.

"As I was saying," Lara said patiently, before gesturing towards the two people near the pool, "That is my and Inari's brother, Thomas Raith, and his friend Justine."

"Raith," Harry echoed blankly.

He grudgingly admitted to himself that Thomas did look like Lara and Inari, but he also resembled a certain Riddle quite closely.

"I'm leaving," Harry announced without warning.

"Why?" Inari asked surprised.

Harry turned his head towards Lara and looked her directly in the eye. Their eyes remained in direct contact for a split second, before her eyes flickered away. Lara inclined her head slightly.

"If you do not wish to stay, I doubt there is much I could do to stop you," she murmured formally, the relaxed posture she had sustained throughout the entire session faded away into stiff disposition. Her eyes, which had previous contained a measure of warmth seemed to frost over, "Shall we go and retrieve your belongings from the mansion?" Lara asked calmly.

Harry looked warily at Lara, before nodding.

"Have you had anything to eat?" Inari interjected quickly, " It's past dinner time, so we might be able to get something from the kitchens."

Lara stared at Inari silently for a moment, before she smiled and nodded.

"It would be rather uncouth of us not to offer you something to eat," Lara murmured, switching her gaze from Inari to Harry.

Harry's eyes however were still aimed at Inari.

He couldn't understand what kind of ulterior motives she had, if she had any. All he could see was a slightly nervous girl offering something to eat, after her family chained him up underground for no apparent reason. There were not a lot of things as uncivilized as that.

"Alright," Harry agreed after a few seconds of watching Inari fidget under his gaze, "On the way do you mind if I talk to Lara privately?" he asked with an amused smile.

There was a small amount of conflict in Inari's eyes, but it only lasted a second, before she nodded and turned to Lara.

"To the kitchens!" she declared enthusiastically.

"To the kitchens," Lara agreed with an amused smile, watching as Inari started walking towards the closest entry point.

"We need to have words," Harry stated calmly as he began to walk along side Lara.

His eyes flickered towards the opposite end of the pool, where the man and woman were sitting.

They were both watching silently.

"You're messing around with my head," Harry stated quietly, his voice laced with traceable amounts of anger.

"I am making sure you don't do anything you'll regret," Lara corrected Harry with a slight chill to her voice.

"Right," Harry said sarcastically, "You're causing bursts of lust in me for my own good."

"Both you and I know that this world is not as it seems," Lara said quietly, her eyes never straying from the back of Inari's head, "However, in my family, to become involved in that world, we must undergo a rite of passage."

A sickening sense of understanding filled Harry briefly.

"And Inari hasn't reached that point?" he guessed.

Lara nodded slowly.

"And if anyone tried to tell her before her time has come, they would find themselves dead, it has happened in the past." she murmured sadly.

A faint sense of pity, which had nothing to do with magic swelled up inside Harry. Lara, despite her looks, and the abilities she possessed, was still nothing more than a girl. A girl who cared about her sister, and didn't want anything to happen to her that she wasn't ready for, and it seemed she wanted to protect him-

A wave of anger hit Harry.

"You're playing me again," he seethed.

Again Lara's demeanour became cold.

"Calm yourself, or I will calm you," she declared, arching a slender eyebrow at Harry.

"I'd be calm if you would just be straight with me," Harry snarled through a scowl.

"This really isn't the place for that," Lara stated flatly.

A withering glare was Harry's only response.

"As soon as we're alone, I promise that I'll answer all the questions that I can," Lara said in a pacifying voice to Harry.

"Are you both done yet?" Inari called out from up ahead, she was already standing by the doors to the mansion.

"If I wanted to subjugate your will, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Lara continued with a pleasant smile, it didn't reach her eyes though; they told the real story.

"You Know," Harry drawled, "Intimidation doesn't work half as well when you're in a cute little nightie like that."

"And anger does nothing," Lara pointed out, "When the person you're angry with has seen you naked and passed out," she said slyly, glancing to the side at Harry.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry asked blandly, before what she said registered in his mind, "Wait, no you haven't!" Harry exclaimed heatedly.

"Haven't I?" Lara said, her face unreadable, besides the slight twitch of her lips, no doubt shown on purpose, "If you'd rather think that I allowed one of those men to undress you," she trailed off.

"Just shut up," Harry commanded, and much to his pleasure, she did.

"Must have been an interesting conversation," Inari said with a small pout, "I've been waiting forever," she complained half-heartedly.

"You could have gone ahead to the kitchens and made something," Lara pointed out with an affectionate smile.

"That would have been rude," Inari said with a cheeky smile, "I bet Harry is even hungrier after all that talking."

Lara looked slightly affronted.

"He hasn't complained yet," Lara stated in her defence, "And he was the one who wanted to talk," Lara protested in an avowing voice.

"I am kind of hungry," Harry interjected, with a small smile towards Inari. He received one in turn from the perky girl.

"I have just the thing, I ordered them in a while ago and I only just opened them tonight!" Inari exclaimed excitedly, "Do you like Hotdogs?" she asked with a grin.

Beside him, Larry seemed to cough unexpectedly. Inari sent Lara a light glare, before turning her smile back upon Harry.

"I guess so," Harry said slowly, sparing Lara a confused glance.

"You'll love them," Inari gushed as she beckoned for Harry to follow.

"I might go and get our guests belo-," Lara began to say, before Inari cut her off.

"Or you could wait until later, it isn't like he's going to leave straight after eating," Inari pointed out childishly.

"Very well," Lara murmured tiredly, beckoning for both Inari and Harry to continue walking.

Harry glanced back towards the pool, but couldn't see it.

"You're interested in Justine?" Inari asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "The man reminded me of someone," he explained with a light frown.

"Thomas?" Inari said helpfully.

Harry nodded.

"He's one of the few family members that don't weird me out," Inari mumbled sullenly, "Lara and Madeline are the other two, but Madeline is always around with her brother Madrigal, and he's a creep."

"Inari, did you forget that they're both visiting?" Lara asked exasperatedly, at Inari's surprised look she continued, "I had thought so."

"How long before they're here?" Inari bit her lip anxiously, "I want to see Madeline, but I can't stand Madrigal," she complained.

"They probably arrived while we were down collecting Harry," Lara told Inari, sending a brief smile to Harry, "They will probably be waiting in the lounge room for us to greet them still."

"Can't Thomas go greet them?" Inari asked pleadingly, "I'll go and say hello to Madeline when she or Madrigal go to bed."

Lara stared at Inari for a moment, before a chime like laugh flew from her lips, "Thomas can't stand Madrigal."

Inari licked her lips lightly.

"Well, we are entertaining a guest, aren't we? That's enough reason to, you know, forget to go and greet them," Inari declared with a small grin, a grin that Lara mimicked as she nodded.

"Are you both sure you don't want me to just leave?" Harry asked with an innocent-enough smile, "I can come back tomorrow when you aren't entertaining so many guests."

"You're not getting out of here alive, Mr," Lara teased him lightly, "Isn't that right, Inari?" she asked, turning to her younger sister.

"That's right!" Inari pressed, "You're a guest here, even if you were chained up before..." Inari trailed off, before looking pointedly at Lara, "You're going to have to tell me what that was actually about, if you both aren't... you know," she finished uncomfortably.

"Anyway," Inari exclaimed, "Let's go get you some Tofu dogs," she clapped Harry lightly on the shoulder," And if we run across the twins then you're our cover story."

"Tofu dogs?" Harry echoed worriedly.

"Don't worry, you'll love them," Inari reassured Harry, "They're low in calories, high in protein and are delicious."

"Could I just have a sandwich?" Harry asked hopefully.

"If you try one of the Tofu dogs and don't like it, you can have a sandwich," Inari said after a few seconds of debating, "But you'll have to cook it yourself," she finished firmly.

Harry shrugged lightly, either way it worked for him.

Five minutes later, after a small amount of walking and sneaking, done by Inari, Harry found himself in a stainless steel kitchen. The benches were made of marble, the entire kitchen was about as large as the Gryffindor common room, pots, pans, and other cooking instruments hung from a slab of wood that was strung up to the ceiling.

"Here you go," Inari said as she turned around and held out a plate to Harry.

It looked innocent enough, a normal hotdog. It even smelled normal, had the same Mustard and Tomato topping that was common with hotdogs. Tentatively Harry took the plate from Inari and picked the hotdog up off it. It was slightly warm, not to the usual hotdog warmth, but still edible.

Harry bit down on one end.

The first second was alright, the usual compression and then decompression of the meat.

A moment later, the taste hit.

Harry managed to keep chewing and to keep a straight face until he swallowed the first bite.

"What do you think?" Inari asked, flicking her ponytail back over her shoulder.

"It's interesting," Harry admitted, before taking another bite out of it.

It was a bit more bearable now that the shock of the flavour had passed, Harry decided as he finished.

"Thank you," Harry said with a brief smile.

"Do you want another one?" Inari asked innocently, reaching towards where she procured the first one.

"No!" Harry decline, a bit more forcefully then he would have liked to, "I mean, no thank you, I'm full," he corrected himself, earning an amused glance from Lara, and a light pout from Inari.

"So," Lara began lightly, "How do you plan to get back to London?"

Harry stared at Lara for a moment, before shrugging.

"I'll get in contact with the Embassy, I guess," he answered, before asking a question of his own, "Do you know where it is?"

"400 N Michigan Avenue," Lara answered without hesitation, "Although I feel obliged to tell you that without a passport, or any identification it will take a while to get back home, and due to your unique education, the British government will probably not allow you to go easily," Lara finished sympathetically.

"I see," Harry said slowly, "I suppose I'll need to find another way to get home,"

"You don't have to leave tonight," Inari said with a kind smile, "There are plenty of rooms here, even with Madeline and Madrigal staying the night," she wrinkled her nose when she said Madrigal's name.

Lara shifted slightly from behind Harry, causing both him and Inari to look back towards her.

"I might go and get your possessions, so that when you make your decision you'll feel less like this is a hostage situation," she explained with a smile.

Harry nodded.

"That'd be nice."

"I'll meet you both near the main stairs to the second floor," she said, looking at Inari, who nodded in return.

Lara gave both Harry and Inari one last smile before she left the kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't want another one?" Inari asked innocently.

"No thanks," Harry replied, "They tasted a bit weird, kinda bitter and sweet."

Inari grinned stupidly for a moment as her cheeks burned lightly.

"Did you do something to them?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Nope," Inari denied quickly, her grin and blush however, remained.

"I'm not going to die of poison, am I?" Harry asked suspiciously, it wasn't conveyed very well however, with the small smile upon his lips.

"I'd hope not," Inari mumbled to herself slowly, her grin slipping away into a gentle, and slightly offended smile, "Let's go and wait in one of the lounge rooms, they have fireplaces," she suggested through a shiver.

"Are you cold?" Harry asked, quirking his eyebrow.

Inari glared playfully at Harry, before she folded her arms across her chest.

"Shut up and go, or I'll force-feed you," she snapped lightly, before unfolding her arms and ushering Harry out of the kitchen.

Harry laughed lightly, gifting Inari with a small smile, which Inari instantly matched with a bright one of her own.

"Inari, are you in here?" an unfamiliar female voice called from just beyond the door.

"She is probably in a shower or something," a decidedly male whined lightly afterwards, "Can we just go and find Justine and Thomas?"

At first Inari's smile widened, before the second person's voice registered. Her smile instantly deflated afterwards.

"Pretend I'm not here," Inari said quickly, before she ducked behind the counter.

Harry turned towards the door, where the voices had called from, just in time to see a woman walk into the kitchen.

"Oh my," she said almost absently the moment her eyes landed on Harry.

She wore casual clothes, they weren't casual enough to detract from her looks. She looked like a more exotic Lara, with a hint of Inari, and something else, her skin had an almost golden tan. Behind her a man walked into view, he seemed to be bored, his face was slender, with stark cheekbones. He, like almost everyone else Harry had seen, looked like someone out of a movie. The man's dark hair was cut short, neat, and his eyes were a dark, deep opaque colour. They looked quite similar still, like twins.

The moment the man's eyes landed on Harry's, he let out an exasperated sigh and turned again.

"I'll be looking for Justine if you need me sis," he mumbled out with a discontent sigh.

"I do not believe I've met you before," the woman said in a slightly husky voice, as she began to walk into the room, "I definitely wouldn't have let you get away as you are," she murmured with a slightly crazed look in her eye.

"We haven't," Harry confirmed with a nod as he placed his weight against the counter behind him.

"My name is Madeline," she introduced herself, taking slow steps with a serpentine grace, her tongue moistened her lips lightly. Madeline tilted her head to the side, in a quirky fashion, "What's your name?"

"Madeline?" Inari called out, before her head popped up from behind the rows of pots and pans.

"Inari?" Madeline asked surprised, losing the seductive posture she had held, "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked, almost disappointedly.

Inari shook her head with an embarrassed smile. A smile briefly reappeared on Madeline's face, before it was extinguished as Inari continued.

"Lara brought him over from England, he's gonna work for her, or the family," Inari explained helpfully as she stepped out from behind the bench top and crossed the short distance to Madeline, giving the slightly older woman a hug.

"Lara did?" Madeline asked, seemingly sulking as she wrapped her arms around Inari and gave her a tight hug, "Is she seeing him?" Her eyes didn't leave Harry's at all during the exchange.

Inari shook her head lightly and stepped away from Madeline.

"Nope," Inari said with a smile, "Although, she had him chained up when I saw him an hour ago or so," she continued to explain, her cheeks flushing lightly.

Madeline's eyes flickered down to the top of Inari's head, before turning back to Harry's, significantly narrowed.

"You don't say," She murmured calmly, "I never did get his name." she said with a warm smile down at Inari, who couldn't see her eyes.

Inari opened her mouth, about to talk.

"My name is Harry," Harry answered, "And I'm not working for you or your family," he said to Inari in a slightly cold tone.

Inari turned her head back to Harry, her face sporting a hurt look.

"You said you'd think about it," she said frowning.

"I'm not working for your family right now," Harry repeated slowly, "I didn't say that there wasn't a possibility that I would."

"How about you work for me then?" Madeline asked as she stepped around Inari, her eyes staring intently at Harry, "I can think of something's which I could use you for," she murmured huskily, licking her lips.

"Did you just proposition to me?" Harry asked flatly.

"Madeline!" Inari exclaimed shocked.

"I was kidding," Madeline said as suddenly as Inari had spoken, turning back to Inari and smiling brightly, "It's nice to meet you, Harry," Madeline said formally, turning back to Harry and smiling at him and mouthing two words.

Harry blinked as Madeline turned away and began to walk out of the room. His cheeks were slightly flushed.

"I'll tell Madrigal you said Hi," she called back to Inari, who managed to shake herself out of her stupor just in time to call out.

"Talk to you later Madeline!" Inari waved at Madeline's back hesitantly.

"Is she normally like that?" Harry asked incredously as he turned back to Inari.

"Not usually," Inari confided with a shrug, "Lara was acting a bit weird also, maybe they have a thing for British people?"

"Your family is weird," Harry stated, to which Inari only nodded in agreement.

"On the bright side, I don't have to talk to Madrigal," she said with a smile.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Harry asked, before laughing lightly as Inari shook her head fiercely.

"You heard him talk about Justine and Thomas right? He keeps trying to seduce Justine and take her away from Thomas, even though they're cousins, and Justine loves Thomas." she explained vehemently.

"Not a moral guy than?"

Inari shook her head again.

"I don't think my dad or sisters like him either, Thomas certainly doesn't, and I bet Madeline only just puts up with him," Inari prattled on as she and Harry walked out of the kitchen.

"You know," Harry interjected with a decided innocence to his voice, "For not liking your cousin much you sure do talk about him a lot."

Inari looked insulted, she was quick to recover though.

"It isn't like you're giving me anything to talk to you about," she defended herself.

Inari fell silent beside Harry, giving him a chance to take in his surroundings. If he didn't know better he'd say he was at a lesser royals house, considering the vastness of it, and the contents- Not to mention that there were dozens upon dozens of pictures, statues, vases and other sorts of finery. Harry took particular interest in the few paintings of novelty, one of which contained a blood red scaled dragon surrounding a man, who was being crushed. It was a morbid design and looked like it was worth more then everything the Dursleys owned.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Inari asked suddenly.

"No," Harry answered immediately.

Inari accepted the answer and became subdued, saying little to nothing until they had both arrived at a large set of stairs, which lead up to the next floor, Inari still seemed to be itching to ask more questions she remained silent for five minutes as they both waited, during which Inari chose to sit down on the stairs.

"Why not?" Inari inquired finally, looking up from her seat on the bottom steps.

"Because we broke up when I left school," the response came from Harry, as calm as he had been before.

"That's a silly reason to break up," Inari declared flatly, "You could have still visited her," she pointed out, taking a small amount of pleasure in the conversation.

"I was busy," Harry explained, his voice remaining level, despite a small amount of amusement creeping up inside of him, along with a small portion of annoyance.

"With what?" Inari asked perplexedly, as if she couldn't see anything more important.

Harry decided to answer with the truth, if not a slightly censored version of it.

"I was busy hunting down the man who killed my parents," he replied with a smile towards Inari.

Inari's smile became uncertain.

"You're kidding," she stated questioningly.

"Nope, ask your sister."

Much to Harry's surprise, Inari's reaction was mixed, he could see a healthy dose of wariness, along with a medium portion of wonder, and a small dose of fear. A terse silence set in, which only seemed to aggravate the negative emotions that composed Inari's reaction. In a split second however, Inari's disposition seemed to shift entirely.

"You must have been brave to do that," she stated with an abashed smile, "Do you think you'll ever catch him?"

"I already have."

Inari's newly reformed smile died under the smirk Harry had employed.

High above, the sound of two feet padding against the marble staircase made it's way to Harry's ears, along with the sound of something flying through the air, a something Harry's borne Quidditch reflexes allowed him to snatch out of the air, before it hit his face. The texture was familiar, it was his wallet, he realised a second before his eyes fell upon it.

"I guess the reporting wasn't kidding," a humoured voice murmured from above, a voice which Harry took a few seconds to connect with the woman from before; Lara.

Inari was up like a bolt of lightning.

"Was he really telling the truth?" she asked, her voice cloaked with faux calm, Harry didn't think it was fooling anyone.

Lara's eyes had narrowed as she had made her way gracefully down the stairs, with a bundle of clothes in her arms, along with a thin wooden box. Harry had to stop himself from jumping up the stairs and seizing it.

"About what?" Lara asked, her voice coated with a much more realistic calm, masking something Harry couldn't identify.

"That when he left school he tracked down his parent's murder," Inari paused, glancing to Harry unsurely, before transcending the few steps which separated her and her sister. She whispered into Lara's ear, from the way Lara nodded afterwards, Harry could only assume it was another question, one which Lara hadn't wanted to answer.

Inari turned back to Harry, her smile brittle.

"Well, I'll see you later," she said with an uneven voice, "If you decide to stay that is," she said quickly afterwards.

Harry almost wanted to laugh.

"Don't want me around anymore?" Harry said in mock hurt. Inari shook her head quickly.

"I didn't say that," she protested, before noticing the glint in Harry's eye.

"You're messing around," she accused him, shifting her weight slightly, in a fashion which Harry related to Hermione when she was about to berate Ron and himself. Inari actually made it look more inviting than foreboding though.

Harry only shrugged.

"Off to bed with you," Harry made small dismissing motions with his hands. He kept his smile on his face, and received only a soft glare in return.

"She really doesn't know anything, does she?" Harry asked Lara after a few moments as he watched Inari disappear into the second floor.

"I didn't know any more then she does at that age either," Lara said softly as she stared at Inari's back wistfully, "It was a terrible shock when I found out about it, and it will be the same for her," she trailed off.

"Do you wish you didn't know?" Harry turned away from Lara as he asked, choosing to look out the nearest window, at the relative darkness outside of the warmly lit house, "If you could make it so you could forget all of that stuff, would you?"

"No," Lara firmly stated as she turned her gaze upon Harry, "Knowledge is power, and I'd rather know about everything, than be ignorant of the truth."

"That's an interesting approach to it," Harry managed to say as he turned back to Lara.

"Would you?" Lara inquired curiously, her eyes slightly misted, "Forget everything that worries you?"

"I wouldn't," Harry said without hesitation.

Lara smiled.

"Would you like to go outside and talk a bit in the gardens?" she asked, her voice low and enticing.

Harry stared at Lara silently for a few seconds, before she spoke again.

"I'll answer whatever questions you feel the need to ask," she offered invitingly, shifting her weight as Inari had prior.

"Alright," Harry agreed before he gestured towards the door, "Can we get this over with?"

Lara didn't say anything, instead she simply nodded gently and began walking.

Both Harry and Lara walked in silence. Harry was going through all the questions he wanted to ask- That were relevant and had a point. There were plenty he just wanted to know out of curiosity, like how the hell they had managed to get away from the two Grey Cloaks. The scenario was flawed. There was no way she would have been able to save herself, let alone him along with her unless she was magical in some way, or had someone who did.

If she did though, then there would be no reason to keep him around. If she wasn't magical- Highly unlikely considering her abilities. If she wasn't a Veela, or had some magical blood in her, Harry was willing to eat his wand. There weren't any definitive answers from guessing, Harry quickly came to the conclusion of, especially considering his lack of expertise in the subject.

The Raith family could be a family like the Malfoy family, except instead of the children being born into the magical world, they were born into the Non-magical aspects of the world, Harry's mind rattled on. Encase they were not magical, in which case they would be ignorant of a world they had no connections, outside of their family to.

"You're thinking too much," Harry heard, causing him to look towards the source of the voice.

Lara was standing in front of a table made of fine metal wire twisted into lopping designs. Matching chairs spread around it. Harry took a moment to look around. He hadn't noticed it, but Lara had led him out into a terraced garden, it looked like it had been made during the renaissance. Faux ruins, ancient statues of god-like figures, and a design overgrown in a way to prevent seeing much at a time. Harry had half an urge to go about exploring it.

"Unless you'd rather we just stand here in silence?" she asked teasingly.

Harry shook his head and moved to sit down opposite Lara..

A terse silence set in, as neither Harry, or Lara said anything. It was awkward for Harry, there had not been a great many times where he had been in a position to demand answers, and fewer when someone was willing to give them.

"When I looked up information on you, I also took time to look into what you had called me before," Lara said without warning, "Veela, is what you referred to me as," she stated, "That was a highly appropriate guess considering how little you apparently know about the world outside of the closed walls your upbringing has sheltered you."

"Just because I was brought up by non-magical people doesn't," Harry began to retort without malice, before Lara spoke again.

"I was referring to your magical upbringing over the past seven years, and your ignorance."

At first it seemed like a condescending, and confusing statement, but the way she said it made it quickly clear that she had only stated a fact in her own eyes.

"That doesn't make any sense," Harry pointed out, "How does being taught about the magic world make me ignorant?" he demanded to know.

Lara sighed softly.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, so pay attention," she said sharply.

The sudden contrast in her disposition had Harry paying attention instantly, much to her satisfaction.

"The Wizarding world, as your kind refers to it, is only a small fraction of the unseen world," Lara began to explain. "There are many other factions, or societies, if you will, in the world. The one closet to your kind, outside of your own faction, which doesn't have a proper name, is the White Council. It is composed of Wizard primarily. They've taken it on themselves to get involved when someone breaks one of their imposed magical rules, in which case they usually execute the person. They usually restrained their activities to those with magic, thankfully.

They have seven laws, which are; "Don't kill another human, Don't Transform another human, Don't screw with a humans mind, Don't impede on a humans free will, Don't summon demons, Don't raise the dead, Don't screw with the time line. If a wizard breaks any of these laws they're executed at the earliest possible time."

"Seems simple enough," Harry murmured to himself, "Most of those make sense, but I don't understand why Transforming people is on there. Everything else makes sense." Harry left out the detail that he had broken the majority of the laws, "They seem open ended though."

"I paraphrased, the actual laws take up at least a hundred pages," Lara said with a smile, "They are the cause of the current war plaguing the world," her smile disappeared into a troubled frown.

"War?" Harry echoed, before mimicking Lara's frown, "I haven't heard anything about a war, or the White Council in fact. Considering that I've probably broken most of their laws It is a given that I should have."

"It's complicated," Lara said through a sigh.

"Your world is closed off from almost everything else in the world. As you don't know about the world outside of yours, the world at large, including most of the supernatural beings, do not know about your kind. In some ways it has preserved the way of life you've experienced since you were pulled into it."

"Before you even ask," Lara continued the moment that Harry looked as though he was about to ask a question- Which he was, "The reason I was able to find out about you is because nothing is absolute."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked perplexedly. The statement was innocent enough, but he doubted it was.

"While the worlds are separate, there are some bridges between them. An example would be, some of the people on your side of the divide manage to step outside of the usual playground where most of your type of wizards hang out in. They're usually the kind of people who try and expand their influence, like business men. No one else would really have the need to venture into the non-magical world, and have the chance to stumble across one of the other predominate societies."

"It has worked in the opposite fashion," Lara continued, "At times, from what I've read, some wizards have become powerful enough that they have attracted the attention of influential people on our side. When that happens, they are usually forced into a unique situation," Lara paused, and her eyes focused on Harry's, "As has appeared to happen with you."

"So someone decided I was getting strong and decided to kill me?" Harry summed up bluntly, "Or you decided you wanted someone around powerful to work for you," he continued after a second, his voice tinged with anger.

"No," Lara disagreed, "I do not believe that is the case, from what you've described, you were taken to the Nevernever and brought to Chicago without noticing, and not just anyone can do that. In fact it takes a considerable amount of skill to pull off.

"Who could manage it?" Harry interrupted his anger forgotten.

"My first guess would be a Sidhe, but that would require you agreeing to go with them," Lara paused at Harry's confused look.

"The Sidhe are basically faeries, you know Cinderella's Fairy Godmother? Like that except instead of getting nothing out of mortals they deal with, they usually end up with a whole lot more then they started out with, in most cases their souls. The High Sidhe have are beautiful beyond imagination," Lara shook her head and backtracked, "There are two courts which are currently ruling, the Summer Court, and the Winter Court, they both preside in the Nevernever."

Lara took a moment to pause and let Harry digest the information.

"Nevernever?" Harry pressed on.

"The Nevernever is the closet dimension to the one we live in, it's home to the Sidhe, Demons, ghosts, and that is just the small fraction we know of," She glanced around the Garden, "The Nevernever overlaps with our dimension, but their are many differences, time, space and even the very laws that govern our world are ever changing there."

Harry filed away that tidbit for later.

"You mentioned two different courts? The Summer and Winter, are they like good and evil?"

Lara shook her head with an amused expression.

"Good, and Evil, Love and Hate, they are things mortals created, the Sidhe don't feel any of them, or see it. They exist as forces of nature, literally." At Harry's speculative gaze she continued, "Winter and Summer are constantly in opposition, and their powers are tied into this world. Whenever they clash the effects span the globe."

"I'm getting off track," Lara admitted.

"In the current war, there are five main factions. The White Council, The Sidhe Courts, and," Lara paused, seemingly to think over something.

"And?"

Lara gave Harry an apologetic smile.

"And the White and Red Courts." Lara informed as she stretched against the bench.

"What are they?" Harry asked, before smiling sheepishly as Lara levelled a mild glare at him.

"I was getting to that," she reprimanded him lightly, "The most politically correct term for them by our standards would be vampires I suppose,"

"Vampires as in bloodsuckers?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"Yes, and no," Lara answered, "The Red Court drink blood, but The White Court do not. The Red Court are certified monsters taking the appearance of humans, they have a special kind of magic which allows them to cloak themselves in the form of humans. In their true form's they are bat-like monsters, it's hard to describe them," Lara trailed off troubled, "One of their most potent weapons is their kiss," she laughed lightly at the look Harry gave her, "Their saliva has a highly narcotic effect. Ingesting even a small amount makes a person addicted, completely at the vampire's mercy," Lara sounded pensive as she finished.

"They don't sound like the vampires I've seen," Harry said as he scratched his cheek, "The only vampire I've ever seen was straight out of a lame horror movie, pale skin, long teeth, that kind."

"Your kind has a habit of trying to mimic supernatural creatures with their magic," Lara said with a troubled look, "I can only assume that the vampires you've met have been artificially created. The same appears to have been done with the Veela also."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, "You think they were created to be like the Sidhe?" he asked with genuine interest.

Lara shook her head lightly.

"I was thinking about the White Court," she explained.

"Veela don't drink people's blood, not that I know of, anyway," Harry informed Lara, who smiled and shook her head.

"The White Court do not drink people's blood, they feed on emotional energy, on bit's of peoples soul, if you will," At Harry's shocked face, Lara continued, "Don't get excited, souls are ever renewing as long as they aren't too badly damaged."

"In The White Court, there are three main clans. The clan Skavis feed on despair, and Malvora feed on fear. The third clan feed on lust,"

A terse silent settled in.

"You're a White Court vampire," Harry said quietly.

Lara had lost her smile, she simply nodded.

"That is what I was feeling before, just before the two in the Grey Cloaks attacked, down in the cell when I was chained up, and when I saw your brother," Harry trailed off, before glaring hard at Lara.

"You've been eating my soul!?" he exclaimed accusingly.

Lara seemed shocked for a moment, before she shook her head in protest and let off a light laugh.

"I haven't, we need intimacy to feed," she assured Harry, "And it has been exceedingly hard to not do so to," she complained in a bemoaned manner.

"Do you get hungry every time you see something with a soul?" Harry asked blankly, ignoring the urge to move away from Lara.

Lara smiled again, and laughed.

"No, it's just virgins are very attractive to my kind," she admitted.

Harry's eyes narrowed, as he recalled Lara's words.

"That's what you meant by me being a Delicacy?" he asked incredulously.

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed as Lara nodded.

"I guess it's not because I'm British," Harry said to himself absently, before he refocused his attention on Lara, "So, I'm dinner?" he asked derisively, his hand sliding down to his pocket, where his wand rested.

Lara took on an annoyed disposition.

"No," she snapped, "I told you, I want you to work for my family."

"Why?" Harry demanded to know vehemently.

"Because," Lara began, her voice calm, "You're not a common type of person, you're not even uncommon. You're a grain of gold in a sea of sand. When you saved me, someone you didn't know, someone like me, someone you had no reason to save... That showed me what kind of person you are, and everything I've learned about your life up until now has done nothing to dissuade me from picking you," Lara's voice became slightly emotional as she continued, "You're the kind of person I know I can trust, where it counts."

"You don't even know me," Harry pointed out flatly, "The only reason you probably want me around is because I've basically killed an immortal wizard, and you want me to help you win the war you're fighting."

"Is Inari a vampire to?" he asked, just as Lara was about to protest to his declaration.

"No, I told you, she hasn't reached that point yet," Lara murmured softly, "That's why I want you to be around, so that you can protect her from becoming like the rest of the family."

An awkward silence set in. Harry didn't have anything to say to that. What could he say, her stated intentions were noble, noble as they came in fact. There was nothing he could pick apart from what she said.

"I guess I know why you're a porn star now," Harry mumbled blandly, he blinked in surprise as across from him Lara laughed.

"Why did you tell me about your family?" Harry asked quietly.

Lara shrugged lightly.

"I didn't tell you about my family, I just gave you the information you needed to draw your own conclusions," at Harry's look of disbelief, Lara continued, "The reason I told you what I told you, is because I do want you to remain, I want to give you no reason to distrust me."

"Other than the fact you're a vampire," Harry finished sarcastically.

Lara gave Harry a hurt look.

"I had assumed you'd look past that considering what your list of friends included," she said softly, "I suppose it is true, what they say about the Abyss," she finished with an almost wistful smile.

The comment actually stung.

"I'm nothing like Voldemort," Harry growled out.

He found himself standing up a moment later, glaring down at the dark haired Raith.

"I didn't say that," Lara said in an attempt to pacify Harry, "I merely said you've become so used to that attitude that you're taking it on yourself."

"You've come to expect a certain behaviour from people," she continued, ignoring the glare that was being directed towards her, "I had expected better from you, to be honest," she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"But you don't know me at all," she admitted, the tone of her voice was changing, where it had been welcoming before it quickly became colder, formal, "You have no reason to trust my word, especially now considering you know what so many do not."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Harry said softly, his glare relenting, "I just don't want to be dragged into another war, especially one I have nothing to do with."

"You wouldn't be engaging in the war," Lara explained, a flicker of a smile appearing, "All I would have you doing is guard my family, nothing more, nothing less."

"And you'd have a rather lucrative salary," she mentioned offhandedly, before continuing at annoyed look upon Harry's face, "I of course know you cannot be bought, but considering how much danger you could be in it is only fair.

"And you'll get a great dental plan," she added in an after thought.

"Oh, a dental plan!" Harry exclaimed mockingly, "I've always wanted one."

"You're very obnubilating," Lara stated with a sigh.

"Obnubilating?" Harry asked, the foreign word rolling off his tongue slowly, "What does that mean?"

"It doesn't matter," Lara said dismissively, "What matters is what I can offer you to make you stay," she said.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat.

The entire time since he had woken up, Harry had been acutely aware of exactly how attractive Lara Raith was. Or so he had assumed. Within a fraction of a second Lara went from a highly appealing woman to the incarnation of desire, lust, and femininity. It wasn't just how she looked, the way her eyes sparkled like opals in the moonlight, nor was it the way the fabric of her negligé showed the not so subtle curves of her breasts, the negligé did a lot less to hide Lara's figure as it did prior, her chest was more prominent, as were her thighs, only just covered by the lavender silk. It went deeper then her physical appearance, and there was nothing at all magic about it.

On some level, Harry realised he was holding his breath. Lara slowly leaned closer pressing her lips to his ear tenderly.

"You can ask for anything," her words hit him like a sledgehammer, knocking him out of his stupor.

Anything was highly appealing, there was a lot of anything's that Harry could think of, and most of them involved the woman in front of him, the woman who was without a doubt one of the most desirable objects he had ever encountered.

"You're using magic on me," Harry managed to rationalize, his thoughts becoming clear again.

Lara smiled coyly and shook head, brushing her lips up against Harry's ear, "All me," her whisper sultry, almost intoxicatingly.

And without warning, her body tensed, causing the sheer intensity of the feelings in Harry's body to ebb away. The cause of the sudden change was evident in the form of a man's voice.

"Lara, that is no way to treat a prospective employee," the voice reprimanded, it was deep, unruffled, and as smooth as the silk that Lara's negligé was made of.

The man was about six feet tall, dark of hair and pale of flesh. He was dressed in a white linen suit with a silver-grey silk shirt and Italian leather shoes. There was a scarlet gem of some kind fixed to his left earlobe, though his fine, straight hair hid it until a cool breeze briefly tossed the dark strands to one side. He had long, spatulate fingers, broad shoulders, the eyes of a drowsy jaguar, and he was better-looking than Lara's brother- Thomas.

Harry's first instinct was to plead innocence, but he never got the chance.

Lara slowly leaned backwards off Harry, he could feel the tension in her body, before her lips left the vicinity of his ear she whispered a warning, "Don't say anything," and he didn't.

Lara sat up straight and smoothed her negligé before standing up and inclining her head in a stately manner to the older man, her face had slipped into a mask of neutrality. Harry couldn't see any of the tension that he had felt. Her eyes remained fixated on the ground in an almost abashed manner.

"I've been looking for you since I arrived, few of the servants said that they had seen you," the man continued to say, his eyes never leaving Lara's form, "Have you been well?"

"I have, my Lord," Lara replied in a docile fashion.

The man frowned in disproval for a moment. "This is hardly a time for formalities, little Lara. I've missed you."

"And I you, Father" Lara whispered almost silently as she stepped close to the man and kissed him upon the cheek.

The urge to plead innocence came back stronger than prior.

"And this must be Harry Potter," Lara's father said not missing a beat as his gaze travelled from Lara to Harry, "I must admit, I was surprised that you saved my Lara," his eyes didn't match his tone, they were alien, and detached.

"It was nothing," was the only thing Harry could think of saying, and as he said it he regretted it.

The older man's eyes took on an amused quality.

"Do not be so modest," Raith chided Harry lightly, "You managed to kill one of the Wardens and wound the other," he enlightened Harry, "You should be proud."

Proud wasn't the exact word Harry would have used to describe what he felt as Lord Raith informed him of what had happened to the two people who had attacked Lara. The two wizards had probably thought they were doing the right thing- They probably were. He had struck them down, even if he hadn't thrown the first proverbial punch. The worse thing was that he didn't feel at all sickened with what he had done.

"Would you satisfy a curiosity of mine?" Raith asked with a smile that for all intents and purposes was genuine.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"How did you end up here in Chicago?"

When in doubt, tell the simplest truth.

"I don't know to be honest, one second I was walking through a park in London and the next I was walking out into Chicago," Harry explained. Leaving out the 'small' details, such as May, and the Troll.

"Back to the matter at hand then," Raith stated calmly, obviously unsatisfied with the response, "Name your requirements."

"Requirements?" Harry echoed unsurely, "As in-"

"As in what you want in return for your skills," Raith explicated, raising an eyebrow to Harry.

"A virgin every night for the entire time I'm here," Harry demanded sardonically.

"Done." Raith's response was immediate, he was unperturbed, "Anything else?"

"I was joking," Harry said, slightly appalled.

"I wasn't," Raith declared.

Beside him Lara stood silently, her eyes flickering with unreadable emotions. Raith himself was calm and staring at Harry expectantly.

"I have no reason to work for you," Harry said flatly, ignoring the burrowing sensation Raith's eyes seemed to possess.

Raith remained quiet, his gaze focused on Harry's. Harry himself found it hard to keep eye contact with the man. "You will work for me, because you're a noble man, Mr Potter."

"Now see, something happened there," Harry stated, calmer then he actually felt, "There was a complete lack of connection between what you said, and what you intended it to mean," he pointed out.

"You're a vampire, and you want me to work for you, that wouldn't exactly make me noble. I don't see the logical connection there."

Irritation was being to show on Raith's face in a wintry expression.

"You work for me, and you'll have the chance to save lives," Raith explained, his eyes narrowing ever slightly.

"And if I don't?" Harry challenged, his chin held up.

"Then you'll have all the deaths you could have prevented on your head," Raith responded, his voice matching his expression.

Raith must not have been someone who got rejected often in any situation. Harry absently realised he was probably being a lot more level handed than he normally would, Lara's bemused expression beside him gave cause to that thought.

"Father," Lara interjected quietly, "If I may?" she reached up and touched him on the arm in an affectionate manner.

Raith's face seemed to soften, his eyes however remained the same.

"If you must," he stated, before turning away and walking back down the terrace, where two people stood motionless. One was a man, and the other was a woman. They could have been twins- they probably were, both had the same facial features, the only difference was their body shape, and their hair. Both of them turned away and flanked Raith as he walked away from the terrace.

"I should have realised he wouldn't let something like this go by without his oversight," Lara murmured softly, before she turned her gaze back upon Harry, a small amount of the woman he had seen before rekindled.

"I'm sorry Harry," she apologised, "I didn't want you to be forced into a position where you had no choice but to accept," the look in her eyes mirrored her words, they were clouded with the faintest traces of regret.

"I still have a choice," Harry said calmly as he regarded Lara.

Lord Raith had been intimidating, but Harry wasn't in any mood to be goaded into agreeing to throw his lot in. There was a morbid sense of interest in what would happen if he agreed.

"You do," Lara agreed, a frown marring her face, "But if you do not choose to accept he will take it as a personal insult, and react accordingly."

A feeling of dread was beginning to bubble up inside Harry's stomach, a very familiar feeling.

"He isn't kind, and won't simply cast his vengeance back on you," she explained, a pained expression overcame her face momentarily, "He wouldn't be satisfied with just destroying you, he'd seek revenge on everyone you associate with."

There was genuine concern in Lara's eyes, for who, Harry couldn't be precisely sure. he had somehow gotten into a situation in which either way he was ruined, on one hand he could join them, and be forced to do god knows what, or he could decline and others would suffer for it.

"Just the illusion of choice," Harry mumbled to himself with a great deal of enmity.

Lara's eyes lit up with recognition momentarily, before her eyes became passive again.

"For what it is worth, I did not want it to happen this way," Lara smiled apologetically.

"You'd rather I fall at your feet?" Harry snapped, losing his temper momentarily.

"Via my feminine wiles," Lara agreed, ignoring the outburst.

A host of thoughts and emotions were running through Harry, one of which was a curiosity aimed at what Dumbledore would think. He almost immediately regretted it when one of the key factors in Dumbledore's personality came to mind; Second chances. A grimace covertly covered Harry's face. There was many a time he'd have loved nothing more then to go back in time and break the old man's jaw for being so adamant about giving people second chances. Going anywhere near the ideal Dumbledore held close to his heart, lead Harry into territory that he'd rather not be in. Territory which was centred around the Vampiric Raith family.

"You look troubled," Lara's voice broke through his thoughts.

Harry gave Lara a flat look, she didn't take note of it.

"I get to be one of the bad guys!" Harry stated cheerfully, earning himself a frown from Lara.

"That's hardly called for," she said, her voice tainted with disappointment, disappointment which Harry felt shouldn't have been aimed towards him.

"Isn't it?" Harry challenged calmly, ignoring the nagging sensation in the back of his mind telling him that he had forgotten something.

"It isn't" Lara affirmed, "This war wasn't started by our side, it was started by the Wizards, they attacked one of the Red Court after being invited to a ceremony. The wizard later came back and killed the woman, along with at least a hundred of her court, and her estate."

Lara's tone wasn't patronising, or reprimanding, Harry almost wished it had been, it would have given him reason to feel the embarrassment he felt.

"Why are you so prejudiced?"

The question wasn't malicious, Harry quickly realised, holding back a stinging comment at the last moment.

Lara took the opportunity to further the question, "What changed between the time you befriended the Werewolf and now?"

Nothing had changed, but Remus Lupin had been a friend of his father. Harry closed his eyes, he felt a moral headache building up. The kind that actually made him feel some guilt over using dark magic to cut open Malfoy's face.

"Nothing," Harry admitted grudgingly, ignoring the smile of triumph Lara gave, "He was one of my father's best friends."

"You trusted him because your father did," her statement wasn't patronising, it held the same lack of judgement as her previous question.

Lara moved closer to Harry, until she was standing in front of him

"How about I earn your trust myself?" her hand came down onto Harry's shoulder; It was gentle and comforting.

"I'd like that," Harry admitted with a smile, a smile which Lara was quick to mirror.

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_


	4. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

**Long time no post, so here, have a 17.7k chapter. 11k of this has been done for six or so months, it was just the last 6k(ironic) that I couldn't be bothered to do. Cheers to Tinn who is a lovely, lovely beta, to Shezza who is a gigantic hussy. To Nuhuh who is a great motivator and a final cheers to myself for finally getting it out.**

**Jon**

* * *

_I while living have discovered a universal truth; a wizard's justice sucks ass._

* * *

Harry had once declared that all he wanted was a normal life. 

He now looked back on that declaration with contempt.

It had been a week since he had first met Lara and the Raiths. In the seven days since then, he had had without a doubt—barring his time with the Dursleys—the most boring and abysmally average time in his life. He had expected something that was moderately interesting. Like being a security detail—such as those he had seen in the few movies he had watched.

He was a bodyguard, sure.

For Inari.

Sweet, calm, ignorant Inari.

Not to say that she was lacking in knowledge conventionally. But she had no understanding of things outside of the mundane. The entire time he had spent 'guarding' her had been spent overseeing her while she studied, went to friends' places, and went shopping. There was only so many times he could be used as a test subject for clothing before he wanted to tear his eyes out. Which would have been a bad thing—they didn't have anyway to heal that kind of injury.

There was a bright side to it however: he now knew that his eyes favoured grey. Whatever the hell that meant. Another boon was access to their library while Inari was studying. Lara had insisted that he read Stoker's Dracula. He had assumed that she had him do it to remove the misconceptions he had about vampires, only to find out after he had finished that all that had been written in the book held truth to it. He had a few small nightmares afterwards, he was torn between being relieved that the nightmare hadn't involved the normal elements, and being concerned that being eaten alive in a nightmare was considered better then average.

The library had a rather extensive collection of literature; Harry quickly noticed that the majority of the collective works were fantasy fiction, or horror. He was currently reading a grimoire of myths, the stanza one he was looking atrevolved around an old Norse tale, involving a fairy named Summer, and a troll named Winter.

He was so engrossed in the story that he didn't notice Inari had stopped studying, and was trying to get his attention.

That is, until she got physical.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry demanded to know, his hand flying up to his arm where Inari had pinched him.

Inari gave Harry a withering glare, before she held up the book she had been reading in front of him. "Do you understand this?" She reached over the top of the book with her free hand and pointed to a section on mathematics.

Harry's brow furrowed as he scanned the text.

"Yes," Harry lied, before turning his gaze back to his book, ignoring how Inari's eyes narrowed.

She relented eventually and went silent.

Good things never last, however.

"What about this?"

Harry found the studying book on front of his eyes.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked exasperatedly, before gently pushing the book out of his sight. He was about to go back to reading when a thought struck him.

"Do you know where Lara is?"

Inari's face took on a sour disposition.

"She went away on a business trip," was all Inari said, before she went back to reading.

"Why didn't she tell me?" Harry inquired, looking over to Inari, but her face was hidden by her book.

"Why would she?" Inari's voice was vaguely waspish, scolding.

Harry held his tongue and went back to reading. He had no clue what he had done, but apparently he had upset Inari. He could recall a similar situation between Ron and Hermione, but quickly dismissed the idea.

Curiously enough, none of the wizards in the Grimoire had a wand. Staves were the medium they used for magic. They were usually ornate, or unique in some fashion, from the illustrations on the pages. Harry briefly toyed with the notion of building a staff, before he dismissed the notion. His wand was more than enough for him to deal with.

"Harry," Inari's voice broke through the quiet that had filled the library; she rolled his name off of her tongue in an almost childish way.

"Yes, Inari?" Harry asked , trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"Could you go and get me something to eat?" She looked hopeful, unlike how she had previously; her voice held no scorn.

Harry stared at her blankly, internally debating how to respond to her polite request.

"No."

Inari's lips twitched lightly.

"Please?"

"Didn't you have breakfast a few hours ago?" Harry asked calmly, snapping his book closed. There was no way he would get any more reading done with Inari's semi constant interruptions.

Inari shrugged nonchalantly, "It was only a few pieces of fruit."

Harry rolled his eyes and reached towards his pocket. He managed to stop himself half way. His fingertips brushed up against the thin layer of clothe that constrained his wand. He had almost slipped up. It hadn't been the first time. It was such a small matter, conjuring food. He had become so used to using his wand for the smallest thing that he had developed a nasty, unshakable habit of reaching for it without thinking.

Inari had become suspicious over the repeated movements. The girl was nothing if not perceptive, deceptively so. But for all that, she still retained a measure of childlike curiosity, and innocence. Or so Harry had come to believe. She hadn't really given him any reason to suspect anything else.

"In a few more hours, maybe," Harry finally agreed.

Inari pouted for a moment, before her lips curved upwards into a smile, "If you have to leave before then, can you bring something back?" she innocently asked.

"Why not?" Harry shrugged to himself lightly and opened his book again; he missed the triumphant look in Inari's eyes.

A light tapping sound found its ways to Harry's ears, moments before a calm baritone of a voice hit his ears.

"Mr Potter, there is a conference call for you." Harry turned around to the doorway, where a vaguely Italian-looking man stood.

Harry blinked bemusedly, before frowning in thought. "Who is it?" he asked after coming up with a list of zero as to who it was.

"Lord Raith."

Harry nodded to himself before he slipped out of his chair and stood up. He almost instantly began to miss the comfy cushioning of the chair.

"Harry!" Inari called out, prompting Harry to turn back as he reached the door.

Inari was curled up in her seat, smiling.

"Some raspberries and orange juice would be good," she stated haughtily.

Harry sent a mild glare at the seated girl. All it did was make her smile even wider. He turned away, out of the corner of his eye catching a small wave of Inari's hand.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked the servant.

He received a silent bow in return, then was led out of the Library.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, before Harry finally decided to break the ice.

"Have you been working here for long?"

The man remained silent and continued to look on ahead.

Harry frowned lightly but held his tongue. It hadn't been the first time that a Raith employee had chosen not to talk to him. It happened quite often. The only person he could get a proper conversation out of was Inari or Lara, and Lara had left according to Inari. There had been a few times when Lara and Inari's brother, Thomas, had tried to talk to him, but every time a situation needed his immediate attention. He didn't have any complaints about it.

The silent servant eventually led Harry into a section of the mansion he had not been in previously. They had passed through a long, large hallway which was bare, except for the occasional portrait. There were only three faces that Harry recognised. Inari's, Lara's, and a fair distance away, Madeline. Between Inari and Lara there were various portraits of women that bore a striking resemblance to the sisters.

The furnishings were all made out of the same auburn coloured wood. The air smelled crisp, if not a bit stale. The walls were covered with books. Unlike the library, most of them looked like they belonged in a person's study. Harry realised that he had been brought to Lord Raith's personal study. Nothing was out of place, there were no spare papers lying on his desk. The room was barren.

Except for the far side of the room.

In a hollowed out part of the wall, a gigantic screen sat snugly. On either side of the screen, wooden slates were jutting out. They looked as though they slotted in perfectly in front of the glass panel. The most interesting feature of the setup was probably Lord Raith's face, magnified to be many times greater than it actually was. The quality wasn't exceptionally high, but Harry had no trouble recognising the Raith monarch.

"Mr. Potter." Harry was mildly startled when Lord Raith's voice reverberated throughout the room, and the image of him on the screen moved.

"Sir," Harry greeted, briefly wondering if he could be heard.

Raith eyed Harry critically "I am correct in assuming that you are being treated in a cordial manner?"

Harry nodded absently.

Raith's face remained mostly impassive, his eyes were locked on to Harry's form. "Is my daughter in good health?"

"She's good." Harry answered without thinking. Raith's brow furrowed slightly. "Good?" he repeated, rolling the word off his tongue; his voice was soft, but there was a warning tone in his voice. Harry could not have mistaken it. Snape had had a habit of overusing it; Harry doubted he could recall a time that the traitorous potions master had not when conversing with him.

"I mean to say, that she is in good health," Harry offered after a moment of consideration. "Just a normal girl basically."

Raith's eyes flashed silver. It happened quick enough that Harry hadn't been sure he had seen it. "I see, and nothing out of the ordinary has occurred?"

"Everything has been normal." Harry almost grimaced; it had been too normal. There was only so many girl day-to-day activities a single man could stand, before he wanted to see how many curses a living body could hold before it was liquefied.

"Then I have a request for you: I need you to escort my son to a meeting with the White Council."

Harry blinked, momentarily stunned, at the mention of the White Council. "White Council, as in the guys who attacked Lara?" _And who I accidentally killed?_ went unsaid.

Raith's lips curled up in a slight sneer.

"The same." His voice had a hint of disdain to it.

Harry was far from sold on the plan "Is that really a good idea?"

Raith's eyes narrowed mildly.

"There will be no altercations as long as you do not do anything foolish." Raith took on a pensive disposition. "In the case that something does happen, I require that you not be the first to act."

Harry stared at Raith. "You mean let them attack me?"

An expectant gleam registered in Raith's eyes momentarily as his lips thinned out. "Quite."

Harry's expression darkened ever so slightly. "What if I choose not to go?"

Raith's expression remained the same, all but for the most minute details, and even then, Harry couldn't be certain if it was a trick of the light.

"It is well within your right to refuse to escort my son." Raith's voice was calm, frighteningly so. It didn't really sound as though he was angry, or disappointed. Far from it, he looked unperturbed. "I have nothing else to discuss with you. Find Thomas and inform him that I require his presence in this room."

Raith left no room for further conversation. Even if there had been, Harry had no doubt he would have declined. Harry left the room in silence. The servant had long since left, leaving Harry by himself to navigate his way back into the main part of the mansion. An idea suddenly hit Harry without warning. He almost felt like hitting himself. Throughout the entire time he had been in the Raith household he had been straining to keep himself from using his wand at the drop of the hat, and yet, the moment he actually had a use for it, and could use it, he found himself null to the idea. Harry withdrew his wand from his pocket and held it on the top of his upturned palm.

"_Direct me Thomas's room_."

It was a small, unremarkable piece of magic. But it was useful, extremely so. The basis of the spell was the same as the Point Me spell. The main difference was it relied on the person who cast it to triangulate the position of what was chosen. Specifically, it relied on the observations made by the caster; all the minute observations that were inconsequential, and passed on from the conscious mind.

The wand burst into motion. Harry managed to flatten his hand just enough that the tip of the wand wasn't put off of its spin. The length of wood spun violently, so fast that it was barely more than a dark brown blur. And then it stopped. So suddenly that if Harry hadn't been expecting it, it would have been a shock. Harry smirked mildly as he felt the wand strum with the magic it was containing.

He quickly began walking down the hallway; the wand shifted ever slightly, angling just a bit differently each step, all the while pointing towards the same destination. Little more than a minute later, Harry found himself in a known part of the mansion. He quickly pocketed his wand as the sound of footsteps, not his own, sounded in the hallway.

A young woman in a maid's uniform appeared from around the corner. She was a pretty little thing, light brown hair and a soft complexion, aesthetically beautiful just like everyone in the mansion. But her eyes, like all the others', were dull, almost lifeless. Harry offered the girl a strained smile, and received a pleasant one in return.

"Is there anyway I can help you, Sir?" she asked politely as she stood a few feet away from Harry.

Harry shook his head, "No thank you, Miss-" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Beatricè." Her voice was soft, almost silent. It sounded as though it was underused. "If you do not need me I shall take my leave." She lowered her gaze and bowed before Harry, before beginning to walk away. Harry remained silent and watched her as she disappeared into a room. He briefly noted that she was the first out of anyone besides the Raith family members to speak willingly. Harry shook his head and began the small trek towards Thomas's room.

It didn't take long, a fraction of the time it took to walk from the study. Harry rapped his knuckle against the hardwood frame of Thomas's bedroom door. Beyond the door there was an absolute silence.

"Give me a moment," Thomas's voice called out, muffled by the wall in front of Harry. The door flung open, revealing a shirtless Thomas. "Oh it's you," he said; his voice had a hint of complaint to it.

Harry resisted the urge to retort.

"Your dad wants you in his private study," Harry said calmly, ignoring the state of dress, or rather undress, that both Thomas and—if the sounds from inside the room were any indication—his partner were in. Confusion was paramount in Thomas's eyes. "The one with the big television that acts like a video telephone?" Harry tried. Thomas nodded, giving Harry a peculiar glance, before calling over his shoulder.

"I'll be back in a bit!"

Thomas turned back to Harry. "Thanks for that." Harry couldn't tell if it was sincere or sarcastic. He nudged past Harry and began walking back the way Harry had come, leaving Harry by himself. The green eyed wizard shook his head lightly and turned away, his destination in mind: the kitchens.

"Please wait!" An urgent, pleading voice called out from inside the room, a decidedly feminine voice, one which he couldn't recall hearing before. A girl _hopped_ into view. She was pulling on a pair of jeans; they had barely been pulled up in time. Harry was half certain he saw a flash of the girl's panties, but he quickly put it out of his mind. The girl's eyes were dark, as was her hair, and she was a bit taller than Harry. Despite her hair being in a state of disarray, she looked almost as good as Lara and Madeline.

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and extended her hand towards Harry. "My name is Justine." As Harry reached forwards the dark-haired girl continued, "And you must be Harry, I'm sorry that we haven't had a chance to talk yet, I've been meaning to..." she trailed off into silence.

Harry smiled bemusedly. "Were we supposed to talk?" He clasped her hand and shook it, before letting go.

Justine let loose a chime like laugh, "No, but I've been wanting to since I saw you with Lara and Inari." She shot Harry a curious look. "You sent a dirty look my way when you first saw me, have I done something wrong?" Justine's voice was slightly troubled.

Harry shook his head and smiled across at her. "No, Thomas just reminded me of someone I didn't get along too well with." It was true enough, Harry mused. He didn't have a problem with Thomas, other than his name and the small similarities he held with Tom Riddle.

"Do you want to spend some time together while we wait for Thomas to come back?" Justine's eyebrows raised expectantly. Harry felt a bit out of his depth.

"Sorry, I'm supposed to head down to the kitchens and get a snack for Inari," Harry apologized with a small smile.

Justine frowned.

"I wasn't really _asking_ you if you wanted to spend some time with me." She scolded him flippantly. "I was allowing you to be a gentleman and accept."

Harry held himself back from making a sarcastic comment, and gave Justine a strained smile. "I'd love to really, but I need to get back to Inari, it's what they're paying me for after all."

Justine's mood changed in an instant: as quickly as she had switched from perky-happy to angry annoyed, she moved onto pleasantly curious. Harry felt _far_ out of his depth. Justine's eyes were uncomfortably intense. "So that is what you're doing here?" she asked bemusedly.

Harry could only nod silently; he held himself still, despite however much he wanted to lean back away from the pretty and unstable girl.

"Do you mind if I come with you to get something to eat?" Her eyes were latched onto Harry's.

"Not at all," the words flew out of his lips before he could properly comprehend them. He had felt as though the wrong answer would have had the girl's mood swing again, and his survival instincts had kicked in.

Justine perked back up and smiled, before slipping an arm around Harry's and beginning to lead him off, to the kitchen, Harry assumed.

"So," Harry began awkwardly; Justine was holding on a bit too tight to his arm. "Are you related to Madeline?"

A tinkling laugh met his question, along with an bemused smile. "No, why did you think that?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "No reason in particular." he didn't feel the need to explain the similarities he saw between them.

Justine's lips retained her pleasant smile, but her eyes still held a hint of confusion in them; she quickly moved past the question, however.

"So what's a guy your age doing working in a place like this?" Her tone was of light curiosity, and the question itself was worth thinking about.

Why had it he stayed? The subtle threats if he left were a reason—not a good one however, a quick memory charm and he'd be a thing of nonexistence in their minds. There was the fact that he hadn't intended to stay in the Wizarding World (If you capitalise one word, better capitalise the other as well) for too long. It was awfully convenient that the 'job' had just 'happened' to become available the moment he was captu—made a guest of the White Court.

"I just happened to be around at the time, and they offered," Harry gave a half truth, holding back an amused smile "The salary I was offered... was pretty impressive also," he admitted.

"Oh," she blinked. "How much are you getting paid?"

Harry held back a snort; she had no sense of tact, or if she did she wasn't overly fond of exercising it. "Three hundred grand in dollars, I'm not sure how much it is in pounds, though." Harry trailed off into thought. His thoughts once again turned to his friends.

"You're a Brit?" Justine exclaimed, sounding mildly surprised. "I couldn't place your accent properly," she admitted. "How long have you been over here for?"

"About a week," Harry answered, losing his train of thought "I... ran into Lara a week ago, and helped her with something, and here I am." He gestured at himself with a half smile.

A frown slowly developed on Justine's face; she progressively slowed down, forcing Harry to slow down with her, until they came to a complete stop.

"Really?" She sounded surprised. "You don't look like you've been fed on." Justine reached up to Harry's face and pressed her fingers against his eyelid. Harry stood still, unmoving as she opened his eye as wide as she could, peering into the iris.

After a few moments it became painful. He moved to swat away her hand, only to miss, as she withdrew it. "You seem perfectly fine," she murmured, her voice unsure.

"I doubt I'm that tasty," Harry stated with an equally unsure smile. "I'd probably give her indigestion."

Justine spared Harry a peculiar look, one not too dissimilar from the one Thomas had bequeathed him previously. It didn't last long though; she shook her head dismissively before pulling Harry along again. The kitchen was just around the corner, he noted as his eyes met a familiar portrait.

"What did Inari want to eat?" Justine asked curiously as she moved ahead of Harry, into the kitchen. Harry noted, with no small amount of amusement, that she immediately went for the food cooking on the numerous stoves, largely ignoring the cooks that were at work. "None of these look ready to eat," she murmured, her nose twinged with disgust as she lifted the lid of a particularly smelly dish.

"Just some berries and juice," Harry answered, pausing to look around the room briefly. "Wher— he began to ask, before a bag was shoved up in front of his face.

"Raspberries," he finished, smiling sheepishly as he took the bag which was held under his nose "Thanks." His eyes flickered from the proffered bag to the face of the person holding it to him. A pair of familiar dull eyes stared back at him, along with a familiar face.

"Beatrice?" he asked, surprised. "Weren't you on the other side of the mansion?"

A small nod was all he received in return, before a second item was held out to him—a pitcher filled with an orange liquid, orange juice obviously, and a cup, which he accepted. "Miss Raith requested that we prepare substance for her and bring it to her." She bit down on her bottom lip, internally debating whether to continue or not. "She also made a complaint about you taking too long, Sir." Her voice was vaguely disproving, at him or Inari, he couldn't tell.

"Oh," a sound of surprise came from behind Harry, and before he could turn around Justine peaked over his shoulder. "Have you got everything? Well come on then, we need to hurry, I have to get back to Thomas soon."

"One second, I'm talking to—" He attempted to wave Justine off, attempted being the key word. He found himself jerked around by the wrist and pulled away. "Wait I said!" he snapped, before pulling his hand out of Justine's grip. He ignored the outraged look on the girl's face and turned back towards Beatrice.

Only to find that she had already begun to walk away, out of the kitchen via the exit to the back.

"Need to talk to who?" Justine asked, her face clouded with a troubled expression, before one of comprehension overtook it. "You mean the servant girl?" she asked, surprised, before shaking her head and tugging on his arm again. "Don't worry about her, she isn't worth talking to."

A bubble of annoyance and anger began to well up inside of Harry at the sheer dismissal she conveyed in her voice. He rounded on Justine, prepared to tell her off, but the words died in his throat. Justine stood, staring at him curiously, and there was confusion in her eyes. Confusion seemed to be common place with Justine. She was confused because he was speaking to one of the 'servants'? Or was she confused because he wasn't following her? He couldn't place it. Her lips held a bemused smile, unlike the ones she had previously displayed. There wasn't a hint of malice in her.

"You'll catch flies like that," Justine teased, her lips curving upwards into a wider grin.

Harry snapped his jaw closed. He forced a smile upon his face and nodded. "Shall we go then?" He motioned for Justine to lead the way.

She was only too happy to. He followed her in silence until they came to the stairs which connected the first to the second and third floor.

"I guess this is where we go out separate ways," she stated as she turned around to face Harry. There was a hint of disappointment in her smile, but not too much. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry." She quickly covered the small amount of space between them and placed a quick kiss upon his cheek. Harry felt a mild burn on his face, indicative of a blush, however minor. He paused for a moment, before smiling again.

"I'd love to talk to you again, it was fun," she murmured.

Harry laughed lightly, but nodded all the same.

"Maybe you can show me why they made you Inari's minder" Her eyes were alight with amusement as she went on to say "You don't look like you could hurt a fly, much less protect someone."

Harry felt like he had been slapped; the comment had been in good humour, he understood that by the confusing (once again) lack of malice in her words and expression on her open face.

"I'm fairly capable," he answered smoothly; his smile became a bit less forced as Justine nodded seriously.

"I know, otherwise they wouldn't have hired you." She bit her bottom lip, the look in her eyes became worried. "Thomas loves Inari, I don't know what he'd do if she got hurt." Her eyes met Harry with the same intensity they had outside of Thomas's room. "What makes you special, when you're younger then me?" she demanded to know.

"Magic," Harry answered simply, taking a small pleasure in the mimicry of a deer in the headlights that Justine's face sported.

"Oh." Her voice was soft, unfocused, and she smiled hesitantly before nodding. "I'd... better go." It sounded like she really did want to leave.

"Bye Justine, it was nice meeting you." Harry lifted his hand to wave, but she had already turned away and disappeared into the east wing's corridor.

"Funny girl," Harry mumbled to himself as he shook himself out of the minor stupor he had fallen into, and began to walk in the direction he recalled the library being in.

"About time! You took ages."

Harry snorted lightly as he dropped the bag of raspberries in front of Inari and placed the jug down on the middle of the desk.

"I had to get Thomas for your dad, and then I was accosted by the girl we saw with him when I got the grand tour of the place, her name's Justine." He dropped down into the chair he had previously been sitting in, only to frown a moment later; the padding had reset to its former shape.

"Accosted?" Inari began sceptically. "Justine's a nice girl, she's sweet if a bit temperamental. I can't see her doing that." Inari paused and glared playfully at Harry. "I bet _you_ were the one who did the accosting, and she naïvely followed you."

A cheeky grin formed on her lips as she picked up the bag of raspberries and plucked one out. Her grin faltered for a moment as she brought one to her lips and slipped it inside. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, before swallowing, and turning her gaze back to Harry with a light frown.

"Too warm," she said simply.

"Bullshit," Harry stated flatly "You're just being difficult; you got your snack, now eat them."

"I'm completely serious." Inari pointed to her face. "This is my serious face." Her face was completely stoic; it looked forced, however, with the subtle tug of a smile threatening to break her 'serious' face.

Harry fought the urge to pull out his wand and curse her.

"Alright," he said after a few moments. "Close your eyes and put your head against the table."

Inari eyed Harry suspiciously. "Why?"

Harry held back a snort.

"I'm going to do a bit of magic to cool the raspberries down."

Inari's eyebrows rose, before she let out a light laugh. "Pull the other one, why don't you?" She managed to sat through a chuckle as she smiled at Harry.

Harry frowned at her. "I'm serious."

He pointed up to his face.

"This is my serious face."

A mild glare came from Inari, despite her smile widening to cover her lower face.

"Alright." She made a show of closing her eyes and setting her head down on the desk.

The moment Harry heard the faint sound of her head falling upon her folded arms, he stood up and withdrew his wand. Harry pointed it to the raspberries, wordlessly casting a cooling charm on the fruit. The charm worked, a bit too well. A thin film of sleet covered the Raspberries. As he prepared a weak warming charm to disperse it, Inari spoke.

"I'm gonna lift my head up now."

Harry quickly pocketed his wand, a few seconds before Inari's head turned on its side towards Harry; her eyes immediately moved to him, before her gaze turned upon the bag of now frosted-over raspberries. She stared at the bag silently for a few moment, before she slid one of her arms out from underneath her head and reached into the bag, plucking one of the raspberries from the pack. Her eyes widened the moment her fingertips touched upon the berry.

She raised her head up off of the desk and reached across to the bag with her other arm, pulling it closer to herself for inspection, with surprise evident on her face. "How'd you do—" she began to ask, before her eyes took on a suspicious gleam. "You switched the bags didn't you?" She abruptly stood up and leaned over the table, looking down to the floor where Harry stood. Her eyes flicked up from the ground to meet Harry's amused stare.

"I didn't hear you move, so where are they?" she asked curiously, glancing to the sides.

"Magic," Harry announced with a jovial smile.

"Really," the Raith daughter replied, eyeing Harry doubtfully, before nodding to herself and reaching over to the pitcher of orange juice. Her hand rested upon the handle for a moment, before she dragged it over the table, along with the cup attached. She calmly poured the orange juice into the cup, before bringing it to her lips and lightly sipping upon it.

"Too warm," she declared, placing the cup upon the table next to the pitcher. Inari smiled innocently and quirked her head to the side. "Could you fix it for me?" she asked, gently pushing the cup and pitcher towards Harry. She received a withering look from Harry, but seemed oblivious.

Harry's eyebrows had raised at Inari's request, but he nodded and gestured towards her. "Eyes," he stated, his voice slightly exasperated.

Inari smiled brightly and closed her eyes. Instead of laying her head down upon the table, she reached up and covered her eyes with her hands.

Harry chuckled lightly, before slowly walking around the table to behind Inari. The moment he stepped out of her line of sight he withdrew his wand again and pointed it towards the pitcher and cup, once again wordlessly casting the cooling charm upon the liquid inside each of them. He managed to hold off the ice forming, but only barely, the sides of the pitcher had fogged up slightly.

He only just managed to slip his wand away into the confides of his clothing before Inari's hands dropped and she spun around to face Harry, her eyes filled with an emotion akin to annoyance.

"You cheated!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I couldn't see what you did!"

Harry blinked, a sly smile coming over his lips.

"Of course you didn't," he began, amusement evident in his voice. "You had your hands over your eyes."

"Right." Inari's voice had a slightly sarcastic tone to it, but she didn't dispute Harry's statement.

Harry gestured at the orange juice as he walked back around the table. "Well go on, drink it up."

Inari frowned lightly but sat back down and did as Harry suggested; she sipped the orange juice, before glancing over to Harry. "It's a bit c—"

"Shut up and just drink it," he interrupted, picking up the book he had been reading and dropping down into the chair he had been sitting in prior to being called out of the room.

"Mean," Inari huffed, but was compliant, bringing the cup back up to her lips.

Hours seemed to trickle by in the relative silence, until the sun dipped below the horizon, and darkness began to spread throughout the afternoon sky. The lights in the hallway and library flickered on in unison. Harry ignored it all, including the dull and weak knocking sound that met his ears.

Instead he focused on the book in his hands.

"Mr. Potter, Thomas is waiting for you in the lobby," a voice as dull as the knocking sound spoke from beside Harry, prompting him to look up. A servant was standing near the doorway. It took Harry a few moments to realise what the servant was talking about.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he said dismissively, before turning his attention back to the book in his hands. Specifically, the section on various mythological beasts. The author P.K Skavis had done a commendable job in describing them, he had even gone as far as to get illustrations done for it. Harry's eyes were currently locked on the page dedicated to trolls. In particular, they were focused on the illustration, which bore a striking resemblance to the creature he had fended off after meeting May.

After a few more moments of staring at the entry, Harry turned the book over and placed it open on the table in front of him. His eyes swept across the table to the only other occupant in the library. Inari had long since fallen asleep; she had rested her head atop of the table, her arms folded on the book she had been reading. He absently took note that sleeping girl was shivering ever slightly. The Library was quite cold, Harry quickly realised. It wasn't a good sign that he had become so engrossed in the book that he had ignored the temperature.

A wave of nostalgia hit him as he remembered having a similar argument with Hermione, over the lack of concern she could at times place on her physical well being when reading. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of just leaving her as she was, but he quickly chose the only other option he could think of besides waking her up. Standing up, Harry withdrew his wand from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. He began flicking it in a short, but precise series of curving motions. "_Cento Constituo_," Harry murmured softly, jabbing his wand at the chair he had been sitting in.

In the blink of an eye the chair folded in on itself, before expanding out into a large black quilt. A second wave of his wand saw that the blanket stopped before it hit the ground. Harry plucked the floating blanket out of the air and stepped around to the other side of the table, where Inari had fallen asleep. He slowly draped it over her, tucking its edges around her so as to keep it from falling off. Once satisfied, he turned away and began to walk towards the library's exit.

"You weren't lying."

Harry froze.

"You really did use magic," a tired voice murmured from behind him.

Ever so slowly, Harry turned back until his eyes met Inari's. She looked to only be partially awake, her eyes were less than half lidded and she seemed to be fighting to keep them open, however little. Harry's heart thudded violently in his chest. The stupidity and carelessness of his action dawned on him rapidly. His mind flashed through the various excuses he could use, before it came to rest on the best possible option.

He raised his wand up and pointed it towards Inari, the first syllables on the edge of his tongue, "_Obli-_"

"Weren't you naked in the last dream?" Inari asked through a yawn, her eyes barely open.

Harry stared blankly at Inari, the spell on his tongue forgotten.

"Right," he began to say, his voice strained. "I was just going to change, I'll be back in a moment."

"Bring some whipped cream back?" she murmured into her arms as her eyes sealed up again.

"And some raspberries," Harry agreed, glancing to the half empty bag of raspberries in the middle of the table.

Inari nodded into her arms and let out a noise of appreciation. Harry managed to hold in the laughter that was threatening to overtake him as he turned away from the black haired girl and walked out of the library. He silently closed the double doors behind him as he stepped out of the library, careful to leave it unlocked in case Inari woke up during the following night. The doors gave a dull clanking sound as they sealed shut.

Turning away, Harry couldn't help but give a mild bout of laughter, and made a mental note to record the memory in a pensive when he got back home. His laughter died away along with his brief lapse in memory. A frown slowly formed on Harry's face as he wondered exactly when he would make it back, if it would be enough time to forget to save the memory.

He had no idea how long it took to walk from the library to the front of the mansion; he was lost in his thoughts the entire time, only brought out of them when he had to recall which direction he needed to turn.

"Harry!" a relief-filled voice exclaimed from somewhere near the back of the Lobby as Harry finally made it to the front door.

He turned back in time to see Thomas briskly walking towards him, an expression of nervousness seated upon his face.

"I thought you weren't going to show up." He paused, taking a moment to look Harry over. "You're going to wear that?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders lightly; there was nothing wrong with his casual clothing as far as he was concerned. He quite liked the clothes that he had been told to buy in place of the ones that Lara had incinerated. "I was just finishing a book."

Thomas chuckled, the expression of nervousness disappearing quick enough that Harry wasn't completely sure he had seen it. "That's alright, it's lucky I decided I should call you a bit earlier than necessary." He gave Harry a winning smile. "As it is we won't be too late, maybe a few minutes." He gestured beyond the front door, where a white limousine was waiting and began to walk.

Harry nodded and walked towards the Limo, stopping only long enough to allow Thomas to take his seat first. Once inside, Harry took a moment or three to look around the interior. He had been in few other cars in his life. Vernon Dursley had been a proud man, and he always took liberties when buying his cars, but even they paled in comparison to the Raith's fleet of cars.

'_Hell, even the cars Inari uses to go out are better than them_,' Harry mused.

"Is something wrong?"

Harry blinked bemusedly. "Pardon?" he asked as he looked towards Thomas.

He received an equally confused smile in return. "You looked a bit spaced out," he offered, hesitating only for a few moments.

"I'm just admiring the limo," Harry explained.

A laugh came from Thomas.

"I don't like Limousines much myself, but my father wanted us to arrive with style, so..." He gestured to the Limo. "They do have their perks though," Thomas admitted as he reached towards a cabinet. It opened up to reveal a set of crystal glasses, along with a bottle of an amber liquid.

Thomas offered up a glass to Harry.

Harry declined with a shake of his head.

"I'd rather not drink right now."

He received an understanding nod from Thomas. "I prefer a bit of a drink to calm my nerves before something like this," Thomas explained as he resealed the cabinet.

"Like this?" Harry echoed, his brow knit in confusion.

"As a rule of the thumb, whenever I'm being sent for something official it doesn't bode well."

Thomas gave Harry a loose smile before sipping from his cup. A grimace followed soon after.

"A bit too strong." He put the cup down beside him.

"What do you mean by 'it doesn't bode well'?" Harry demanded to know.

Thomas continued to smile.

"In most cases when he requests that I go in his place the circumstances are usually quite dangerous. The last two times I only just managed to survive because of an associate of mine." He paused, his smile dissipating into a frown. "The chance of him helping again is as unlikely as one of my older sisters finding a bloke and settling down."

A chuckle escaped Thomas. Harry found himself silent.

"Sorry," the dark haired man apologised. "Another attempt to calm the nerves," he explained, as he reclined on his seat. "So..." Thomas began with a smile reappearing on his face. "A Wizard, huh? I didn't think the White Council would stand by and let one of their own work for the enemy."

"I'm not associated with those guys," Harry said slowly, ignoring the nagging sensation in the back of his head that told him to be open with the energy vampire across from him. "Justine told you?" he asked, his voice calm despite the irritation that was broiling inside of him.

Outside of the limo, lights flared as they reached the city side. The Raith chateau wasn't terribly far from Chicago itself. It was however, far enough that the lights of the city were only a distance glow on the horizon. Forest surrounded the mansion for what seemed like miles. Harry doubted that the forest was there because the Raiths were fans of natural environments.

Across from him, Thomas's smile dimmed slightly. He nodded. "She did, we tell each other everything."

"I see," Harry said, turning his gaze back to the window.

Silence resumed momentarily, before Harry couldn't help but ask, "You have no problems with it?"

Thomas let out a laugh of what seemed to be relief. He shook his head. "If it means you can better protect Inari, then I'm all for it."

He hadn't had to protect Inari from anything at all, Harry mused. "Is there any actual reason why I'm her bodyguard? As far as I've seen in the past week, she's just a normal girl. I honestly can't see anyone out to get her at all."

A suspicious look overtook Thomas's face for a split second, before it was gone and replaced with an anxious frown.

"No one is out to get her in specific." He paused. "She is just the easiest target in our family and one of the closest to our father. Everyone else is..." Thomas trailed off, taking to looking out of the Limousine's windows himself, falling into a contemplative silence.

"A vampire," Harry supplied helpfully. He was surprised to see Thomas tense for a moment, before he relaxed.

"Right."

He smiled once again, though it had an uncomfortable tinge.

"Do you know why we're going?" Harry finally asked.

"We're going to find out why Lara was targeted."

Harry stared at Thomas blankly.

"Am I the only person who thinks that is a _bad_ idea?"

Thomas shrugged.

"Personally I'd rather not go, but I can't turn my father down," Thomas explained, taking another sip of his drink.

Yet again, silence took precedent.

An hour seemed to tick by in silence, only broken by attempts at small talk from Thomas. Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't notice that the car had pulled to a stop, nor did he take notice of the door opening until Thomas spoke. "You ready?" he asked in the middle of stepping out of the vehicle.

"I suppose," Harry mumbled as he sat up and followed Thomas out of the open door.

The cold night air struck Harry the moment he stepped out of the warm confides of the car. The car Limousine had pulled over in front of a modestly sized factory. The property was surrounded by a decrepit razor wire fence; large sections of it were missing, and those that were still standing were rusted over. Broken lamp posts littered the perimeter of the compound. Inside wasn't much better. Large crates were scattered around the front of the factory, more than a few of them had rotted away, only a few seemed to be solid at all. They smelled pretty bad.

"They'll probably already be inside, so we just need to wait for the third guy," Thomas explained as he slowly began to walk closer to the building. He paused for a moment, and turned back to face Harry.

"While we're in there don't say anything, just stand around and look harmless, alright?"

Harry frowned, but nodded. "Stand around, look harmless, sounds easy enough."

Thomas gave Harry a thin-lipped smile, "If something goes wrong for whatever reason just-" Thomas stopped in mid sentence as the crunching sound of rubber on gravel met his and Harry's ears. Both of them turned towards the building; Thomas seemed nonplussed, Harry was slightly surprised.

"Thomas Raith," the newcomer greeted, his voice a low baritone. His lips were stretched back, revealing a set of ivory white teeth. They stood out in the low light provided by the failing street lights. His eyes flickered to Harry and confusion showed for a moment, before he smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid I do not recognise you."

"Paul, this is Harry, he's just here to observe."

The man's smile dimmed slightly. "Alright." He turned back to Thomas. "Our counterparts for this..." He seemed to struggle to find a word that fit the situation. "... Meeting, include Senior Council member De'fortier, Warden Morgan," he sneered lightly. "Captain of the Wardens Luccio will also be attending as an observer."

Thomas let out a low whistle. "The Boss."

"Shall we?" Paul asked as he gestured towards the factory. Thomas nodded and Harry remained silent as they walked towards the decrepit factory and entered through the open doors.

The interior of the factory was lit up by a set of old fluorescent lights strung up high above from the roof. The outside of the building hadn't given a good estimate of how _large_ it actually was. From the entry way a series of stairs lead down to the floor, there was a good ten meters of stairs leading down to the ground floor. The windows were high up on the walls, just above the surface outside. Large machines laid in a grid formation across the floor of the building, some towering up to three meters high. A thick blanket of dust laid over the machinery. On the floor however, there was a trail where the dust had been disturbed, leading into the centre of the factory, where the large machines obscured the view.

The stairs were surprisingly sturdy considering how, like everything else in and around the factory, they were rusted over. They walked in silence, the only noise coming from their shoes occasionally breaking through the thick dust and clanking against the floor.

Harry's nose twinged as the dust rose up in the air; he reached up and scratched it, quelling an itch that had appeared. His hand froze as they rounded a corner and came to a stop. In front of them three people stood.

The first was a gaunt looking man. He was a bit taller then Harry was, his cheek bones stood out grotesquely from his sunken face, his eyes looked a couple sizes too large. His head was completely bald, he even lacked eyebrows. It gave him a vaguely skeletal look. Besides him a gigantic man stood. He was more then a head taller then Harry, his height was coupled with what looked to be a hundred pounds of muscle. He had a short beard, patchy with brown and grey, his hair was much the same, tied back in a long ponytail. The moment he looked in Harry's direction he looked like he had eaten something particularly sour.

The third was a woman. Her hair was a solid sheet of grey cut into what Harry could only guess to be a practical style. Her features hinted towards a Mediterranean lineage- Italian probably. Her features were schooled into a cool, calm mask. Unlike the second man, her gaze didn't change as it fell on them.

"Senior Council member De'fortier, Wardens Morgan and Luccio," the lead of their group, Paul, greeted.

"Deldori, they sent you?" Morgan sneered lightly., "And where is Raith, and the so called 'victim'?"

Paul continued to smile. "I'm afraid Lord Raith is currently out of the country on a business date, and his daughter, Miss Lara, is still recuperating from the grievous assault." He gestured towards Thomas. "In their place Lord Raith has sent his son, Thomas."

"Very well." Morgan looked displeased. His eyes made contact with Harry's for a moment before he quickly looked away. "And who is this? There were no other parties involved in the so called alterations."

"I-" Harry began to say, before he was interrupted by Thomas.

"He's no one important." He smiled coolly.

Harry took the hint and remained silent. He also made a point of not meeting any of the White Council members' eyes. Morgan and De'fortier seemed to share the same intention. Captain Luccio however had yet to look away from him, and it made him feel uneasy.

"Just a thrall," Morgan spat out, his eyes filled with disgust.

"Quite," De'fortier spoke for the first time. His voice, unlike his appearance, was warm and smooth. "It is an insignificant detail." He gestured towards the table behind them. "Shall we sit down and begin?"

"I'm afraid being inside this factory for so long is making me feel rather ill," Luccio interrupted, sounding apologetic. "I will take a moment to step outside for some fresh air, if you are willing to proceed without me."

Paul stiffened slightly, hate and distrust stirring within his eyes.

"You know very well that it's against agreed policy that a single participate would be allowed to leave the compound without an escort." He scowled lightly. "Both I and Mr Raith are required to remain here to proceed with the meeting, so you will have to wait until we are finished, Warden Luccio." His scowl lessened into a frown.

Luccio's face remained impassive.

"You're mostly correct, _bambino_." She glanced back towards Harry. "However, there is someone else who is not needed; what is your name, boy?"

"George, Boy George," Harry answered calmly, ignoring the look Thomas levelled with him.

Lucio turned back to Paul. "Is that acceptable?" she asked.

He nodded grudgingly.

"Go with her," he waved his hand dismissively at Harry before moving forwards towards the seats surrounding the table. Thomas followed after him, his eyes staring straight ahead. He gave an almost unnoticeable nod of his head.

Luccio walked past Harry, her cloak brushing against him as she passed by. "Come." Her tone left no place for refusal.

Harry obliged, not giving Thomas a second glance.

A few minutes later he found himself out the front of the factory again, standing near the gate of the factory alongside the grey haired Captain of the Wardens. He had to admit that she was intimidating. On the way up he had noticed the slight bulge at her side that showed through her cloak- a sword. The same as the two that had attacked Lara. In all likelihood the order to attack Lara had come from her.

"What is your real name?"

Harry stared at the back of Luccio's head.

"Harry," he answered, his voice barely carrying to her.

"Not a thrall then." Her murmur was almost inaudible. She turned around to face Harry again. Harry's eyes met hers for a moment before he once more broke eye contact.

"Caucasian, green eyes, glasses, black messy hair," she calmly spoke. "This is the description that one of my Wardens gave to me when I asked them who attacked him and killed his partner." She paused for a moment, watching Harry's face for a sign of emotion. "What interests me is that the majority of their wounds were caused by a form of magic." She once again paused, studying Harry's face.

"They were at the time of the attack, one week ago, stationed in California monitoring the situation there due to a sudden increase in activity. He refused to explain why he and his partner had abandoned their posts, however. Imagine my surprise when two days ago I found out about an attack on one Lara Raith, one of the White King's daughters, one that coincidently occurred at the same time, in the same city where two of my Wardens were attacked.

"Imagine my further surprise when a man matching the description of the person who had attacked my Wardens walked in to the factory beside the brother of the woman who was attacked."

"There are a lot of people with that description," Harry defended himself calmly, slipping his hand into his pocket. Luccio didn't seem to notice, and remained still.

"Do not patronise me, boy." Luccio's voice rang cold in the night's air. "There are no such coincidences here, you _will_ tell me what happened one week ago _transitivo_?"

Harry stiffened again.

"I am just an observer in this dispute, whatever you tell me will remain with me and not be spoken of by these lips," Luccio added. His ears might have been deceiving him, but Harry only heard truth in her words.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," Harry said calmly, but his resolve was wavering.

Luccio paused, a miniscule frown overcoming her.

"If you will not tell me what happened, will you at least meet my eyes for more than a single moment?"

Her frown disappeared. In its place a smile, which Harry would have needed a Pensieve to catch, appeared on her lips.

Harry scowled and met Luccio's eyes defiantly. He ignored the discomfort looking into Luccio's world wary gaze brought up, and for a moment all was still, and then his vision blurred.

At first Harry wasn't sure at what he was looking at, or where he was. Darkness surrounded him wherever he looked- and then he saw her. Luccio. She stood tall in the mass of darkness, her sword at her side. She radiated an aura of righteousness that seemed to fight off the darkness, the sword at her side strumming with power and a bright white glow. It beat back the darkness but all it seemed to do was push against it, only to have it push even closer, ever closer. She still remained steadfast, unflinching even as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole.

A stab of pain lanced through Harry's mind, causing him to clutch his head. He shut his eyes closed tightly and grunted. Despite his eyes being closed he could still see Luccio, the scene was completely vivid inside his mind, almost as if he was still looking at the depiction. Harry warily opened his eyes, only, to his surprise, find that he was in front of the factory again.

"I did not realise that Basilisks still existed in this dimension," Luccio murmured calmly, staring across at Harry, interest blatant in her eyes. "Nor did I believe it was possible for someone so young to defeat such a creature, even with the help of a Summer Fay." Her face took on a tinge of disappointment.

Harry found himself able to breathe again properly; he had been unable to move out of sheer shock the moment the vision had ended. He swallowed and stared back into Luccio's eyes.

"Your soul is tainted," she murmured curiously, staring directly at Harry.

Harry found no discomfort in staring back into the older woman's eyes now, he saw her in a new light, and couldn't find the sense to be uncomfortable. "You are stronger than the taint however, you've driven it into the depths of your soul." She trailed off into silence. A look of indecision appeared for a moment, before it was gone.

"What... What was that?" Harry asked quietly as he stared into Luccio's face.

"That was what is known as a soul gaze," Luccio explained coolly "It occurs when a wizard looks into another human's eyes and all barriers between them fall. What you just saw was the current nature of my soul, as I saw with you."

"That was your soul?" Harry's voice remained quiet, as though in disbelief.

"A perception of it," Luccio agreed. "Each soulgaze is unique to the people it is held between, each a perfect representation of a person's soul." She paused and took a moment. "While they are perfect representations our perceptions and opinions are not always."

Harry blinked. "You can misinterpret someone's soul?"

A tinge of a smile appeared on Luccio's lips, so small it was almost nonexistent. "The soul is the most complex and important part of being human. To be able to gaze upon the very essence of what makes humans human is a feat in itself. Being able to make sense of what we see is something beyond all but the few who hold the ability to command magic as wizards do."

Luccio's gaze felt as though it pierced right through into his soul, and with what she had just explained Harry wasn't completely sure it wasn't doing exactly that.

"Will you tell me what happened now?" the grey haired matriarch asked quietly.

Harry remained silent for a few moments. His eyes fell away from Luccio's gaze, and he found himself looking at everything but the older woman's face.

"They attacked Lara a week ago, I defended her."

"You killed the first Warden and injured the second?" Luccio asked keeping her voice level.

"No!" Harry shook his head indignantly,. "I only defended her and tried to Stun them, the idiots hurt themselves with their own spells."

Luccio's eyes hardened, but she remained unmoving.

"I see," she spoke quietly.

Neither Harry nor Luccio said anything for a few minutes.

"Thank you."

Harry snapped his head towards Luccio, a look of shock was on his face.

A smile sat upon her lips, but it was small, more like a slight twitch than anything else really. It lasted for a few seconds before her face became stony. Harry was confused for a moment, before the temperature began to rise rapidly, and his shadow on the ground grew. Harry spun around, his hand reaching into his pocket and striking out in less than a second. An explosion of flames rushed towards him, billowing forwards like a cloud.

"_Saliens Cancer!_" Harry shouted, thrusting his wand towards the oncoming inferno. From the tip of his wand a torrent of water surged forth into being. The jet of water wove itself into a gigantic shield in front of the fire. Gushes of steam erupted from the shield as the fire struck it head on. Harry brought his left hand upwards, and a for a moment a spark of red magic crackled around him, before it died out. Harry furrowed his eyebrow as the flames died away. With a flick of his wand the woven barrier of water exploded outwards.

A flash of silver cut through the wall of water, and tore open a hole in the wave.

"You killed then," a whisper came from the doorway.

Morgan, the warden from inside the room, stood at the steps of the factory, his sword clutched tightly in one of his hands. He literally radiating anger in the form of magic. It paused momentarily as he recognised Luccio, but burst out once again with vigour as his eyes landed back on Harry.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Harry snarled as he turned back to Luccio, glaring at her accusingly.

Luccio frowned.

"Morgan did not find out from me, nor was he here when you spoke of it before."

"Then call him –" Harry began to say, before he had to dodge to the side as a column of wind passed through where he had been standing tearing the ground asunder. "Call him off!" Harry shouted, bringing his wand up and slashing it towards a second torrent of air that was coming dangerously close to him. "_Torqueo!_" Harry invoked loudly. The unstable vortex of air suddenly changed direction, crashing into the ground and breaking it apart.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Luccio's voice was quiet, but it still carried. "Because of your actions one of my Wardens died." She paused, a pensive look coming over her face. "While I will not stop Donald, I will not help him either." Harry stared back at her, a heavy emotion settling down upon him as she continued, "From what I saw you should be able to hold him at bay, at least momentarily."

"That's what it meant?" he asked quietly. "That's what the darkness was," Harry murmured to himself lowly, as he turned back to face the grey haired woman. "It's your emotions, it's your sins..."

Luccio didn't reply, instead she turned upon her heel. She paused for a moment and looked back to Morgan. "And Donald?"

Morgan halted as he prepared to attack Harry again.

"When you return to headquarters we will discuss why you authorised two new recruits to attack the Raith." With that she vanished. The boundaries of her body faded away in an instant.

Morgan was stupefied for a single second, before anger once again clouded his face. Anger directly solely towards Harry. "Damned warlock, if you hadn't interfered everything would have been fine!" he snarled.

"You sent them to kill an innocent woman!" Harry retorted, trying to keep his grip on his wand as loose as possible. He was having a hard time doing it. "What did you expect me to do, let them kill her?"

"Innocent," Morgan repeated, his voice quiet, chilling. A laugh broke out from the cloaked man, an almost hysterical laugh. "Do you have any idea of what she has done, child? Of the atrocities her and her people have done over the millennia?"

Harry shrugged.

"No. But she's been nice to me, and that's all that matters." Harry matched Morgan's crazed glare. He briefly wondered what happened to Thomas, and the other guy, Paul, but quickly dismissed the thought as Morgan's sword flashed white.

Without warning the ground between Harry and Morgan exploded with a ferocity unmatched by any spell Harry was possible of producing. Harry lunged to the side, narrowing avoiding having his legs crushed by the upturned land. "_Coherceo_," Harry snapped as he haphazardly waved his wand towards Morgan, sending a smoky grey stream of energy towards the warden. Morgan stomped his foot against the ground and a gigantic slab of earth rose up in front of him. The spell splashed against the stonelike surface and coiled around it, solidifying into a web of bleak ropes.

The wall exploded outwards, sending pieces of shrapnel rocketing towards Harry. Unfortunately for Morgan, Harry hadn't remained in the same spot once his spell had been intercepted, and had immediately taken cover behind one of the few large crates that looked anywhere near solid.

"Stop hiding and fight me like a man!"

"No!" Harry shouted out after a few moments of consideration.

Morgan was silent for a moment before the sound of roaring wind met Harry's ears. His eyes widened and he began to run away from the crate. Behind him the crate shuddered violently, before it was blown apart by a gust of razor-sharp wind. From where he was Harry could feel the edge of the wind torrent batter against him. Harry gritted his teeth together and clutched his wand. "_Eximo, eximo, eximo, eximo!_" he shouted out repeatedly, flicking his wand from various crates to Morgan. The various decomposing crates all lurched towards the Warden in rapid succession.

From what he was able to see before the earth around Morgan once again rose to defend him, the older wizard had lost the look of anger, and instead a more focused look had over taken his face. Harry grinned. The grin quickly faltered as Morgan's sword glowed a brilliant white and the barricades exploded outwards with a fury and speed that saw the rotting crates torn to shreds as the debris struck them. Harry quickly raised his hand and a translucent red barrier flickered into existence in front of him, just in time to meet a barrage fragments of Morgan's defence turned projectile.

"Don't you have anything besides elemental spells?" Harry shouted at Morgan before he violently slashed his wand towards the Warden. "_Stupefy!_" A red beam of light shot out from Harry's wand towards Morgan, but as had happened before a sheet of stone intercepted the spell. Harry didn't even have to look to know that within moments Morgan had used the wall offensively. But this time he was far more prepared.

"_Integumentum municipalis commuto_!" Harry yelled, managing to fit the interminable incantation into a single breath before he arced his wand in front of his body. A wave of azure mist flowed into existence from the tip of his wand before it exploded into a bright shower of sparks which hung in the air between him and the chunks of stone. Harry watched with his breath held as the shrapnel collided with the azure field in front of him. For a moment it looked as though the chunks of rock would pass through without being effected at all. The projectiles shimmered, and in the breadth of a millisecond they shimmered and burst into life, swerving away from Harry.

Harry's victorious grin only lasted a few moments before his eyes made contact with Morgan's figure and his ear heard the howl of the wind. Without waiting for another sign, Harry threw up his arms in front of his body, and a flicker of translucent red energy emerged in front of him before it bloomed out into a small shield. The next thing Harry knew he was flying backwards through the air as the vortex of wind slammed into his shield. Had he tried to remain in the same spot he had no doubt that his shield would have collapsed under the sheer _force_ behind the spell.

He had nothing in his arsenal to match the sheer power of the Warden's spells. Harry didn't let himself ponder the differences between their magic. The moment he felt his back hit the ground and the winds pass over him, he quickly got to his feet again and shot off two blasts of scarlet towards Morgan. Predictably the shattered ground around Morgan trembled and out of the ground a chunk of stone rose upwards to block the spells. The stone exploded violently towards Harry. He absently noted that the accuracy was beginning to increase; more and more of the fragments were headed towards him.

"_Permuto, permuto, permuto!" _Harry continued to repeat, wildly jabbing his wand towards the incoming wave.

At the other side of the factory ground Morgan looked on in irritation as the rocks turned into birds and flew away from Harry. A sudden cry of rage from Morgan saw Harry grinning widely. Above him birds were circling, and just below them various sized rocks were pelting down towards the grey cloaked wizard. Without a second though Harry brandished his wand towards Morgan and wordlessly send an Expelliarmus charm towards the Warden.

The beam of scarlet light shot through the air, quickly covering the distance between the two wizards. A look of triumph came over Harry's face as the blast slammed into the Warden and he was sent flying backwards. Harry reached forwards, preparing to catch the sword, only to frown in confusion as the sword clutched in Morgan's hand thrummed a brilliant white and managed to ignore the secondary effect of the spell.

"That's cheating!" Harry shouted in disbelief as he watched Morgan quickly rise to his feet and slash his sword towards Harry, sending a violent blast of wind towards him. Harry quickly noted that the strength of the spell was diminished compared to the one's prior.

"Getting tired?" Harry mocked with a grin before he waved his wand at the ground in front of him.

"_Surrectus Terra!"_

A wave of forest-green magic poured out from the tip of Harry's wand and was quickly absorbed into the ground. A moment later the earth in front of him shuddered, then erupted upwards into a thick wall of rock. Harry admired his handiwork, pointedly ignoring the discoloured bands that were present throughout the construct. Within moments the spellcast winds collided with the front of the barrier and flakes of stone began to peel off. Within moments the winds died down and Harry flicked his wand at the wall. It began to melt away back into the ground until the only evidence of it was a small bump.

Harry watched Morgan warily as the wizard stood in place, staring across the factory grounds at him.

"So, call it a draw?" Harry shouted out after a few moments of silence.

An unreadable look crossed over Morgan's face. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; he subconsciously clutched his wand more tightly as he warily eyed the his opponent. He noted that the Warden was clutching his sword as tightly as Harry held his wand; Harry took an odd comfort in the knowledge that Morgan's nerves were as on end as his were.

"Submit yourself for questioning and trial and I will concede this as a draw," Morgan said after a few terse moments.

"Trial?" Harry echoed confusedly, "You mean like with a judge and jury?"

Morgan sneered lightly, "That is correct wa... wizard, if you are found innocent, you will be free to go without punishment."

Harry frowned lightly.

A fair trial would be good; he hadn't done anything wrong, he had defended Lara and the guys who had attacked them had basically hurt themselves. On the other hand, he had never had any luck where 'justice' was concerned in front of self-styled 'upholders of the law'.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Harry said apologetically. "I haven't had much luck with trials, the last time I was involved in one I had been accused of breaking a law when I was just defending myself."

A look of rage passed over Morgan's face and his sword was raised in an instant, pulsing violently with a deadly white light. "I've heard that before!" Morgan snarled angrily as he swung his sword in an arch towards Harry. From the blade a gigantic wave of vibrant flames exploded forth. Harry's eyes widened at the sheer intensity of the blast. He was about to cast a flame freezing charm when Morgan swung his sword a second time and the deadly howl of wind filled Harry's ears as the flames suddenly blasted forwards violently.

Harry barely had time to throw his hands up before the deadly wind accelerated flames passed over him. From in front of him a blossom of crimson energy erupted from his palms sprawling out into a thick barrier that surrounded him completely. Harry gritted his teeth together as he focused on expanding the barrier outwards. Seconds quickly turned into minutes and the fires continued to splash against his shield without relent, and even though the barrier protected him from being burned, the heat was still there, and it was quickly getting to the point where he was beginning to sweat.

"How much fucking longer can he keep this up..." Harry mumbled under his breath as sweat poured off of his brow. His magic was quickly beginning to exhaust itself under the unrelenting task of blocking the flames. On the plus side there was only one type of attack so his shield was lasting longer than it had the first time he had been on the receiving end of the Warden's spells. After what seemed like hours, the flames died down, and along with them the barrier surrounding Harry faltered and he fell forwards onto his knees. The burning air rushed towards him, almost overwhelming him. Harry quickly got back onto his feet and cast a cooling charm over himself. A breath of relief escaped him as the crisp air suddenly chilled and he was left to breath easy.

"Impressive."

Morgan's voice caught him unawares. Harry snapped his head up just in time to see Morgan straighten up. Like him Morgan's brow was covered in sweat. "That ability is on the same level as the Merlin's... To think someone like you would be able to possess such a thing."

Harry's eyes widened. "Merlin?! He was one of you guys?" His grip on his wand almost faltered.

Morgan snorted in contempt. "I was talking about the current Merlin of the White Council." The Warden sneered and his grip on his sword tightened. "Merlin _was_ one of us, the greatest wizard known to existence."

"Oh yeah," Harry said with a grimace, "Lara mentioned that the White Council had a position called The Merlin." He paused and eyed Morgan critically, a plan beginning to form in his mind even as he spoke. "Isn't it kind of cocky to call someone _The_ Merlin?" Harry asked as innocently as he could.

"Fool!" Morgan snarled, his grip on his sword tightening. "The Merlin is the most powerful wizard alive, compared to him you're no more than a pissant!"

"Then I guess you're a flea," Harry mocked with a grin.

Morgan roared in anger and his sword flashed white. Morgan swung his sword at the ground and instantly a gigantic portion of the terrain erupted outwards in the form of a jagged wave, tearing apart the terrain. Obscured by the violent pulse of upturned terrain, Morgan couldn't see the victorious grin on Harry's face.

Harry drew his concentration together, and just as the wave became dangerously close he flung his wand hand out towards the wave and shouted, "_Nisus!_"

He almost stumbled back as the super powered pulverising curse left his wand. The invisible spell collided with the wave of churning rocks and tore through it as if it were tissue paper. The rest of the wave passed by without coming near him, and as it did Harry quickly noticed that Morgan had disappeared. He quickly scanned the grounds in search of the Element wielding wizard but came up short.

He dared to breath a sigh of relief and dropped his wand arm to his side.

"He ran..." Harry murmured, relief filling his voice.

"Who ran?"

Harry's eyes widened, and a moment later his head snapped backwards as a hard object slammed into his face, sending him staggering backwards. A follow up strike saw his glasses get knocked off his face and him landing flat on his back with a blinding flash of pain flashing through his head. Harry's eyes began to water but he was able to make out the large shape of Morgan looming over him, sword in hand raised above his head with one hand.

"Justice prevails, _warlock_!" Morgan snarled as he drew the sword back, preparing to strike.

Panic surged through Harry, he scrambled backwards, and gripped his wand in his hand. Without thinking he slashed it upwards at Morgan and cast the only spell he could think of. The front of Morgan's arm exploded in bloody shower as his bicep split open as though a sword had slashed through it. Harry quickly rolled over and stumbled to his feet. He quickly moved away from Morgan as the large wizard, despite the wound on his arm, slashed wildly with sword.

"Warlock!" Morgan snarled enraged, quickly moving towards Harry, ignoring the damage to his arm. The sword in his hand burned with the white glow that had previously been absent.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry shouted, stabbing his wand at Morgan.

The White Council Wizard slashed his sword at the spell and it instantly dissipated into nothing.

"Holy shi-" Harry began to swear before he dodged to the side, narrowly missing having his arm cut off. "Can't we just talk about this?" Harry asked as he took a few steps backwards.

"We'll talk once you're dead," Morgan spat out, advancing on Harry.

Harry gritted his teeth together and turned his foot.

"That's how it is, huh?"

Morgan spat on the ground. "That's how it is, warlock."

"I see..." Harry murmured as he dropped his wand hand to his side. "Bye then!" Harry exclaimed as he spun on his foot. The world blurred and Harry's body compressed as Apparition took place. Harry's mind was solely focused on his destination; the Raith Mansion. The world shifted and Harry's vision blacked out.

The moment Harry's vision returned he felt his legs collapse. Apparition was an unpleasant experience at the best of times. At worse it could bring you to the point of being physically sick. The worse cases were usually caused by very sudden Apparition, one which hadn't been completely thought through. Unfortunately for Harry this had been one of the worse Apparitions he had managed. He wasn't completely sure that he hadn't splinched himself. He dropped his wand and pressed both of his hands against the ground in front of himself in order to stop from falling forwards.

Harry grimaced as he fought to keep down his lunch. His efforts proved to be insufficient, and he lurched forwards and vomited. After a few minutes of remaining perfectly still with his eyes shut tight, and breathing heavily, Harry slowly cracked open his eyes; for a few moments the world seemed to quiver before it became still. A mild frown overcame him as he stared down into a blurry puddle of vomit. His vision was blurred, he absently realised. Harry tentatively reached up and touched his eye. It took him a few more moments to realise that his glasses were missing.

"Fuck..."

He slowly pushed himself backwards onto his back and pressed his hand against his face, inhaling deeply despite the stench. It had been close, too close. The Warden's strength had been overwhelming. The sheer force that the wizard had been able to muster had almost broken his strongest shield. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realised that his head felt like it was about to split open. His jaw throbbed painfully as well, a reminder of the cheap shot the sword wielding wizard had gotten in at the end.

"Just fuck..." he murmured as he pressed his other hand against his head. It throbbed painfully in response. Compared to Morgan the two wizards he had defended Lara from were nothing. It was like comparing a Kneezle to a Nundu. Harry's heart thudded in his chest at twice the speed his head was pounding. He remembered this feeling all too well.

It was the feeling he had gotten almost every year in Hogwarts. He had gotten it when he had confronted Quirrel. He had gotten it when he had confronted Tom Riddle, when he had protected Sirius, when he had fought Voldemort, when he had fought in the Department of Mysteries, when he had watched Dumbledore die. When he had banished Voldemort.

It was the feeling of impending death, it was the feeling of being completely outclassed. It was a sickening feeling that Harry hated most of all, but one he was the most familiar with.

A low laugh began to fill Harry's ears; it took him a few moments to notice it was him laughing. "I'm still alive," he said as he inched his hands away from his eyes and his laughter died down. The cloudy night's sky met his eyes. Morgan had pushed his magic to its limits and his body was complaining. But as the pain in his head faded away, the rest of his senses returned to him. He could hear the soft trickle of water, he could feel the damp air against his skin, returning moisture where the flames of Morgan's magic had almost burned. He grimaced as the smell of his vomit made itself apparent. Still, he didn't hear the soft fall of footsteps approaching as he stared up at the clouds, waiting for his heart to slow down.

"Sir," a soft voice said, drawing Harry's attention away from the sky. "Are you alright?"

A brown haired woman was standing a few feet away from him, clad in a white nightgown. At first Harry didn't recognise the person, especially with his blurred vision, but soon enough he could make out her features. "Beatrice?" Harry asked uncertainly, before he slowly sat up and faced the maid.

The figure nodded silently. "Germaine requested that I retrieve you," Beatrice explained as she eyed him worriedly.

Harry blinked blankly for a few moments before frowning and looking down at himself; he was covered in more than a small bit of blood. He reached up and touched his nose and winced, a glance to it told him that it was bleeding.

"It isn't all mine," Harry mumbled as he wiped his nose on his sleeve, ignoring the burning pain the action brought up. "How did you know I was out here?"

Beatrice lifted her arm up and pointed towards the roof of the house. "There are security cameras surveying the mansions grounds."

"Oh." Harry digested the information. "And who is Germaine?"

Harry couldn't exactly tell, but for a moment he thought he saw Beatrice frown.

"She is the head of the security in the mansion," Beatrice explained before hesitating for a second. "Do you require assistance in standing up?"

Harry shook his head and smiled slightly, "Nah, I should be ok." His words were followed with a slow series of movements, ending with Harry pushing himself up onto his feet.

"Ah," Beatrice began to say quickly, before she recomposed herself. "Please be careful not to step in the... waste." She seemed to have a small amount of trouble finding the right word for the puddle of vomit.

"No sweat," Harry mumbled as he stumbled onto his feet. A frown overcame his face and he quickly padded down his pockets. "Where is my wa..." He trailed off after glancing towards Beatrice.

"Your wand," she offered, then bent down and plucked something off of the ground.

Harry suddenly regretted his lack of glasses, but quickly averted his eyes and smiled in gratitude, accepting the instrument and waving it over his face and his body, nonverbally casting a cleaning charm. His face tingled as the charm swept over it, clearing off the filth; it stung likely as the charm indiscriminately took off the top layer of his skin. On an after thought he cast a simple healing charm on his face. An unpleasant tingling sensation, not unlike being bitten by an ant, passed over his face, but it was quickly gone. He reached up and touched upon his nose tenderly, and to his luck the pain had vanished.

"Amazing," Beatrice mumbled under her breath in slight awe.

Harry ignored her – a task in itself, and focused on his glasses; he closed his eyes and gripped his wand, before flicking it. "Accio Glasses!" he whispered out, then opened his eyes and waited.

Minutes ticked by in relative silence, only broken by the light sound of water in the background.

"Sir, what are you waiting for?" Beatrice asked from where she had stood from the moment she had made herself known.

"My glasses," Harry explained, before he shook his head. "Looks like they aren't coming." He turned back to Beatrice and smiled slightly. "Thanks for coming and waiting for me."

Beatrice frowned and shook her head. "It is my duty to serve."

Harry began to feel awkward. "Yeah, but you look like you were getting ready for bed." He reached up and rubbed his cheek tenderly. "You really didn't have to."

A look of irritation passed over the brown haired maid's face. "You are incorrect, I am required to, it is my duty." She recomposed herself. "If... Sir would like I can prepare a bath for him to prepare for bed."

"I don't look that bad do I?"

Beatrice remained silent for a few moments, before answering quietly, "Sir's personal hygiene is not for me to comment on."

Harry stared at Beatrice for a few moments, before he broke out into laughter. It didn't last too long, and throughout it Beatrice remained still, patiently waiting for him to stop.

"I suppose with an answer like that not much else needs to be said." Harry grinned weakly and took a step towards the illuminated mansion. As he walked onwards Beatrice began to walk a little behind him. Despite his blurred vision he was able to manage to walk without stumbling. As Harry's foot touched upon the ground with his next step, the ground beneath the foot fell apart without warning; he fell forwards, but managed to catch himself before his face met the ground.

"Sir! Are you alright?" the concerned voice of Beatrice met his ears.

"I'm fine," Harry said with a frown as he stared down at the hole his foot was in. A brief hint of déjà vu had Harry shake his head and mumble, "Garden gnomes."

"There are no garden gnomes in the garden," Beatrice said without warning. "Only flamingos."

Harry felt a soft hand touch upon his shoulder. "Does sir require assistance?" the maid asked, before withdrawing her hand from Harry's shoulder.

"Nah, it was just a hole." Harry yanked his foot out of the hole with a mild grimace, before straightening up. He felt an arm encircle his and hold it tightly, which took him by surprise. He turned his head towards Beatrice, only to find her as expected, right beside him with her arm wrapped firmly around his. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to it.

"I insist, sir," Beatrice spoke calmly.

"Thanks," Harry said after a few moments, and smiled at Beatrice.

The two began to walk towards the mansion slowly.

"We weren't expecting you and Mr. Raith until later on tonight," Beatrice murmured without warning. "Germaine had started a betting pool that only Mr. Raith would return."

"They made a bet that I'd be killed?" Harry asked incredulously. "Are you serious?" he demanded to know, stopping walking and turning to Beatrice, slipping his arm out from hers.

The gowned maid nodded, before smiling apologetically. "I waged that you would come back."

Harry blinked. "You betted on me?"

Beatrice continued to smile and nodded again.

"What'd you win?"

"I have the next weekend off... We put the weekend chores up for the bet," Beatrice explained with an abashed smile.

"How many people betted against me?" Harry asked with an amused smile.

Beatrice smile melted away and she shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I'm not sure."

Harry frowned. "You know don't you?"

"All of them," Beatrice murmured under her breath.

"You're kidding?" Harry stated blatantly, before shaking his head. "No, you're..." He trailed off. "Wait, if they all bet against me, then wouldn't you have had to... you wouldn't have bet against those odds, you'd have had to clean that?" he pointed towards the mansion in disbelief.

"I had faith that you'd come back, sir."

"How could you have that much faith?"

Beatrice smiled in a bemused manner. "You're a wizard."

"Good reason," Harry agreed after a few moments of thinking it over.

"Shall we continue, sir?" Beatrice motioned towards the mansion.

"Yeah alright." Harry nodded and turned towards the mansion, beginning to walk. He didn't miss a beat when once again Beatrice's arm hooked against his loosely. "But can you call me Harry instead, sir just sounds weird."

Beatrice shook her head. "It would be disrespectful."

"Even though I asked you to?"

"It could get me into trouble," she continued to protest with a sad smile.

Harry nodded acceptingly before a thought struck him. "How about when no one else is around?"

Beatrice stared at Harry's face blankly for a few moments before she smiled and nodded. "Alright... Harry." Harry returned the smile as they both began to walk.

"Can we go a bit faster?" Harry asked after a small amount of time, in which they had barely gotten any closer to the mansion.

"It would be best not to push yourself," Beatrice answered calmly, tightening her arm around Harry's ever so slightly.

"It's fine," Harry reassured her with a bemused smile. "I'm just missing my glasses, it isn't like I can't see at al-"

Harry faltered as his foot slipped on something. The world stumbled as Harry fell backwards. Beatrice's arm tightened around his instinctively, but Harry was too heavy for her to hold up. A grunt escaped Harry as he fell. The world spun violently and Harry felt a second arm wrap around his waist and hold him tight. Harry and Beatrice tumbled for a few seconds before they came to a rest on the damp ground.

Harry caught himself in the middle of a groan. After a few moments of absolute stillness he had to admit that whatever he had landed on was pretty soft, smelt pretty nice as well. He turned his head and nuzzled against the surface.

"What did I..." Harry began to ask before he lifted up his head, "...land on?" he finished as he stared down into Beatrice's red tinged face. He glanced down to where his head had been and felt his cheeks burn as he stared into the silk white covered cleavage. He attempted to lift himself up but found himself unable to as Beatrice's arm tightened around him.

"...Beatrice?" Harry asked after a few awkward seconds.

Beatrice's eyes widened and her cheeks blushed a heavier red and Harry felt her arms relent and slide off of his back. She mumbled an apology and turned her head to the side, breaking eye contact with Harry.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled under his breath as he stood up and held out his hand to the brown haired maid. After a few moments Beatrice shook her head and rolled over onto her knees, and stood up on her own. Harry grimaced at the state of Beatrice's gown; the back was soaked through, the semitranslucent material clung to Beatrice's back, specs of dirt and small blades of grass scattered all over it.

Absently Harry reached up and brushed off the mud and grass. He wasn't prepared for Beatrice to suddenly flinch away from his hand as if he had struck her. Harry for his part didn't react to the sudden aversion to touch. When she turned around he noted that the red on her cheeks was defusing, though her eyes were wide with surprise.

Harry gestured to her back. "It's got dirty from the grass," he explained before smiling guiltily and withdrawing his wand from his pants pocket. "Would you let me clean it up quickly?"

Beatrice stared down at the wand apprehensively for a moment, before looking back up into Harry's face and nodding, "What do I do?" she asked quietly, her eyes flickering to the wand again, whether in curiosity or worry Harry couldn't tell.

"Just turn around," Harry said as his mind racked over his knowledge of household charms. Needless to say there weren't many that he had been taught, and out of those he could barely remember more than three.

"_Emundatio_," Harry muttered under his breath; he lightly pressed the tip of his wand against the back of Beatrice's gown and dragged it down over the middle of her back. The moment the tip of the wand touched Beatrice's back she had tensed subconsciously, and from the looks of it forcefully tried to relax. From where the wand touched a soft white glow spread outwards. The dirt and blades of grass vanished as the white washed over them and the transparent material gradually became more opaque. After a few moments the glow faded away.

"Is that better?" Harry asked, resisting the urge to touch to check its condition himself.

Beatrice reached around to her back and tenderly brushed her hand over the back of her gown. "It's clean," she said breathlessly, before she turned back around to face Harry, with a glint of admiration in her eyes. "Thank you, sir."

Harry shrugged, "It was my fault anyway."

Beatrice shook her head lightly and turned to face Harry.

Harry's eyes flickered down to the hem of gown Beatrice wore and quickly averted his gaze from the translucent patch.

"Do you want me to..." he gestured to the wet patch at the bottom of the white gown.

Beatrice followed his gaze and flushed brightly once again, before nodding.

Harry hesitated a moment before he pressed his wand against the soaked through material and muttered the spell under his breath, lightly brushing the tip of his wand down over the dirt covered fabric. As had occurred prior the dirt and moisture vanished, leaving the fabric in pristine condition. Harry quickly withdrew his wand and stepped back as soon as the glow had faded away.

"Finished," Harry stated, before looking up to Beatrice and meeting her gaze.

"Thank you," Beatrice said with a soft smile. She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Harry and holding out her hand to him.

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh and grasped Beatrice's hand. "I suppose it'd be stupid to try and walk by myself again, wouldn't it?"

Beatrice shook her head. "It would not be a stupid thing... just foolhardy."

Harry chuckled lightly. "And that's any better?"

Beatrice didn't answer as she began to tug on Harry's hand and lead him towards the mansion. Once again they walked in a pleasant. As they drew closer and closer, Harry noticed that Beatrice's hand was beginning to sweat. He pointedly ignored the holding hands aspect of the situation.

"What's the matter?" Harry finally asked as they passed from the outer gardens to a terraced one that Harry recognised from his... introduction to the Raith mansion.

"Would you..." Beatrice seemed to struggle with getting the words out. She had her head turned down and wouldn't meet Harry's eyes.

"Yes?" Harry pressed on, before on an after thought, giving Beatrice's hand a comforting squeeze.

"Would you please spend this weekend with me?" Beatrice finally managed to say, her gaze still refusing to venture anywhere near him.

Harry blinked. "You mean like, hang out?"

After a few moments Beatrice nodded. "I would... like to spend time with you on my weekend off."

"Sure," Harry agreed with a smile. "As long as they don't send me out to be killed I'd love to spend some time with you," he joked around.

"Please don't say that," Beatrice whispered softly as she finally made eye contact with Harry again.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled his apology. "But wouldn't you rather spend it with your friends or family?"

"I don't have any friends here," Beatrice said with a whimsical smile. "And my family disowned me a few years ago."

Harry didn't know what to say to that.

"I'd love to spend the weekend with you," he said quietly, giving Beatrice a reassuring smile.

"I'm glad." Beatrice returned the smile wholeheartedly. Harry couldn't help but notice how beautiful her smile was. The brown haired maid's hand slipped out of Harry's; he looked up in surprise and received an apologetic smile. "You can see on your own now, can't you sir?"

"I guess," Harry answered with a frown as he rubbed his fingers on his palm.

"We should continue then," she spoke calming, dropping whatever emotions she had held previously.

"What's the matter?" Harry couldn't help but be worried at the sudden change in attitude.

"Nothing, sir, we are close to the mansion," she explained in the same tone.

"Oh," Harry uttered. "Unprofessional attitude and all that?" Beatrice didn't answer.

"Shall we move inside?" Beatrice asked calmly, gesturing towards the mansion.

"I suppose."

"Harry?"

As Harry and Beatrice entered the lobby a voice called out from the second floor. Harry looked up to see who had called out his name. His eyes landed on a figure descending the staircase.

"Lara?" Harry said in surprise.

Lara was dressed in almost casual attire: tight jeans and a white shirt almost as tight; the way she wore them however made them look anything but casual. She frowned as she finally stepped off the staircase onto the ground floor. "Where have you been? I checked in the library but Inari was asleep there by herself." Lara smiled pleasantly. "Did you give her that blanket after she fell asleep? That was very sweet of you, by the way where are your glasses?"

"Where have I been?" Harry echoed, ignoring the rest of what Lara had said. "Where have you been? Inari said you had gone on a business trip?"

Lara blinked in surprise, "A business trip?" A chuckle escaped her and she gestured down to her body. "As you can see these are not business clothes." Her lips quirked up even more. "I was out today shopping."

A glower overcame Harry, causing Lara to let out a light laugh. "She tricked you then?" However infectious Lara's smile was Harry found himself unable to return it. "And..." Her eyes flickered from Harry to Beatrice, who had been silent ever since they had entered the mansion. "Who are you?" she asked coolly, her smile having melted away.

"Beatrice, Miss Raith." Beatrice curtsied beside Harry with her eyes fixated on the ground in front of Lara's feet. "A maid," she added on calmly.

Lara stared at Beatrice before her eyes flickered back to Harry, dismissing Beatrice, and a pleasant smile came across her lips. "And what were you both doing outside at this hour?"

As Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Beatrice beat him to it.

"Germaine sent me out to collect Mr Potter when he appeared on the grounds an hour ago," Beatrice answered quietly, keeping her eyes locked on the marble slab of floor in front of Lara.

"You went out tonight?" Lara mused out loud with a curious glint in her eye. "What were you doing?" She smiled coyly and stepped closer to Harry and brushed down the collar of his shirt with both her hands.

Harry absently noted that Beatrice took a step back as Lara had moved forward but didn't mention it, instead keeping his gaze focused on Lara who was watching him closely like a hawk.

"I'd ask _who_ you were doing but," Lara's smile became opaque, "we both know nothing like that happened."

"I was at the trial thing for you," Harry answered as if it were obvious.

Lara's smile fell away instantly.

"And why were you there?" she asked calmly, though her hand on his shoulders had suddenly stopped smoothing out his collar.

"Because your Dad told me to protect Thomas?" Harry once again spoke as if it were obvious. "Didn't you know? I thought..."

"I was not aware he had sent you to that meeting," Lara murmured under her breath, sliding her hands down from Harry's collar to his chest. Despite her calm tone Harry felt a slight shiver race down his spine. "And where is Thomas?"

Harry shrugged and resisted the urge to step away from Lara's hands which were pressed lightly against his chest. "Last I saw them they were in a factory talking to a guy named..." Harry trailed off into thought. "Deforter?" he offered with another shrug of his shoulders.

"De'fortier ?" Lara asked with a pensive look upon her face.

Harry snapped his fingers. "That's it. De'fortier and a Warden named Morgan." A scowl overcame Harry's face.

"Why did you leave them then?"

"Luccio wanted to go out of the fac-"

"Luccio?" Lara interrupted. "Are you sure that was her name?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, we talked a bit when we went outside, that was the last time I saw Thomas and the Paul guy, when Luccio asked if she could go outside for fresh air."

"Excuse me, sir, Miss Lara," Beatrice interrupted quietly.

Lara looked to Beatrice in surprise. "What is it?"

"If I am not needed further may I please take my leave?"

"Yes, of course," Lara dismissed Beatrice without a second glance as she turned her gaze back to Harry.

Beatrice obediently curtsied before Lara before she walked past Lara and began to climb the staircase.

"You went outside and left before they did?" Lara assessed calmly. "You aren't a very good bodyguard you know, if you just leave whenever it suits you," she chided with a bemused smile.

Up on the midflight of the staircase Harry noticed Beatrice had stopped. He watched as she mouthed a word to him. '_Saturday,'_ Harry thought absently as he watched her briefly, before switching his gaze back to Lara who had begun to frown slightly at his divided attention.

"Excuse me for not letting Morgan cut my head off," Harry retorted with an irritated tone. He reached up, knocking both of Lara's hands off of his chest.

"Pardon?" Lara's eyes narrowed subtly, but her hands fell down without any reluctance.

"Morgan attacked me," Harry grumbled under his breath. "So excuse me for not dying."

"Why did he attack you?" Lara asked stoically, her eyes not leaving.

"Because he found out I was the one who saved you," Harry said hotly, folding his arms across his chest.

Lara eyed Harry critically, her eyes sweeping down Harry's body. "I find it hard to believe you were in a battle with Donald Morgan," she stated calmly. "You seem to be perfectly fine."

"I cleaned myself up," Harry explained sourly, "There was a lot of blood before." He scrunched his nose up. "But most of it was his."

"Really?" Lara mused. "Care to explain what occurred in detail?"

Harry opened his mouth, but found Lara's finger pressed against his lips before he could speak. "Not here," she said.

Lara gripped Harry by the upper arm and led him up the stairs. After a few minutes of walking in relative silence Harry found himself in front of a familiar door.

"Your room?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yes, we won't be interrupted in here," she explained as she pushed the door open.

The inside of Lara's room was large, almost three times as the one he had been staying in was. It was furnished much the same as his was, except in a larger size and of higher quality. One of the main differences, however, was that the far side of the room opened up into a large balcony, the opening draped in white silk curtains, as was her bed. Lara's bed, rather then being positioned against where the wall would have been, was in the middle of the room.

"Don't mind mosquitoes, do you?" Harry murmured under his breath as he eyed the open doorway to the balcony.

Lara gave a tinkling laugh. "Mosquitoes aren't a worry."

Harry blinked in surprise before shaking his head. "Super hearing, right."

Lara sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to her, smiling up at Harry. "Sit," she ordered, continuing to smile. Harry obeyed her and sat down beside the dark haired woman. "Explain."

Harry spent the next half an hour explaining to Lara the events that had transpired. He made it a point to leave out the soulgaze, as Lucio had called it. It didn't seem relevant at all, or more importantly it didn't seem like something that he should just talk about without a thought.

An unreadable look passed over Lara's face. Through the time Harry had described the events at the factory Lara had slowly turned towards Harry until her feet had left the ground and she sat with her legs folded, facing Harry. Harry had mimicked her, so they had sat face to face on Lara's bed.

"You really..." Lara murmured, slowly beginning to lean forwards until her face was only inches away from Harry's. "...were the best thing to bring home."

She closed the distance between their lips in an instant, claiming Harry's lips and pushing him onto his back. Unlike the first time Lara had surprised him with a kiss, this time Harry had no trouble reciprocating.

A few moments later Harry gripped Lara by the shoulders and pulled her off of him. From the fight she put up she was more than a bit reluctant to part lips.

"You aren't gonna eat my soul are you?" Harry asked sceptically.

Lara's only reply was an amused smile before she wrapped her fingers around Harry's wrist and pinned them to the bed, then descended upon him like a wave.

* * *


	5. Catch22

**Yo. So, long time. This chapter has been done for over a year and it's just been sitting on my hdd waiting for me to finish accepting the changes my beautiful, dedicated _french_ beta Tinn imparted to it.**

**Enjoy, and what not.**

** ~Jon  
**

* * *

_Insert deep and thoughtful quote here._

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. A soft breeze was wafting from the open balcony into the dimly lit room, and the smell of grass soaked with morning dew was strong even as high up as the room was. Harry lay on his side, gazing out of the balcony window to the large forest that began at the edge of the garden below. The chilly air stung his lungs mildly as he breathed in deep.

"I could have sworn I was gonna wake up dead today," Harry murmured under his breath. The bed he was laying on shifted and a rustling sound met his ears. A moment later a soft cool arm curled around Harry's side and a distinctly feminine shape pressed up against his back.

"You're quite rude in the morning," Lara muttered into the back of Harry's neck; he felt her lips quirk up in a small smile. "I've already promised I wouldn't feed on you," Lara pointed out through a yawn as she snuggled against Harry's back and hooked her leg over his lower body. She bit down lightly on the back of his neck, causing him to tense. "As hard as it was to keep myself from relieving you of it, you're still a poor, poor virgin."

"Sex or my soul," Harry murmured thoughtfully, ignoring the heat that was rising up on his face. "Sex or my soul, hard choice." A small laugh escaped Lara and Harry couldn't help but smile and press himself back against Lara's chest. The sensation of her body against his was causing his skin to heat up. Lara's breasts were pressing up against his back, and it felt like the only thing between them was his clothing. It would take so little to accidentally slip and—

"You're using your charm," Harry murmured, not sounding reproachful at all. He turned his head back to kiss Lara only for the feelings to suddenly vanish; he stopped and blinked in mild confusion.

"Sorry," Lara apologized without attempting to move away; unless Harry was mistaken, her hand was feeling around for the end of his shirt. "Wasn't thinking about it."

Harry chuckled as he clasped his hand over the top of Lara's, holding it down. His chuckles suddenly stopped. A frown slowly overcame his face as he let go of Lara's hand and traced her arm back to her body. His eyebrows rose as his fingers met nothing but smooth skin except for a thin strip of cloth. His frown quickly changed into a grin as his fingertips brushed over a soft swell of flesh. "When did you—" he began to ask, only to gasp in pain as the hand which had been idly resting on his stomach suddenly dug into his flesh.

Lara clucked her tongue at Harry mockingly. "It's rude to fondle a woman without her permission." She lifted her head up from Harry's neck, craned her head over his side and smiled down at him. "You're also very obtuse in the morning." Her lips crooked upwards. "And daring," she added, sounding pleased.

"You feel obtuse," Harry grumbled under his breath, suddenly feeling a lot less 'courageous'.

"Really?" Lara drawled as she pulled away from Harry and sat up, holding the white blanket that had been covering them both. "I personally think I'm rather acute."

Harry felt the blanket slip off of him, followed by a sudden rush of cold air. He curled up momentarily before rolling over—and catching a brief flash of creamy white skin before the white blanket obscured Lara's body from view. "There is something horribly ironic about being fine sleeping in bed with me almost completely naked but covering yourself when you get out," he said.

"I may be a porn star but I have morals," Lara called out as she disappeared from view into a side room Harry hadn't noticed the night before.

"The irony continues," Harry mumbled, stretching out and slipping his legs off of the bed. His attention was drawn to the balcony where the pristine white drapes were floating aloft in the wind. Despite the cold, Harry pushed himself off of the bed and walked out onto the balcony.

There was a fine layer of mist covering the garden below, it stretched out past the edge of the lawns into the forest that surrounded the mansion in all directions. Though his vision was a bit blurry, he could see through the mist the faint colour of flowers managing to peak through. Throughout the grounds, various garden-tool-wielding servants were going about tidying up the already immaculate garden.

Harry didn't envy them at all. Up on the balcony the air was chilly, but down below it must have been even worse. Harry had no idea how Lara could stand her room usually. Though he had to admit it was quite nice, much better than his room—which he had originally thought was extravagant. His feet were beginning to sting slightly from the cold marble of the balcony floor. The sound of feet padding against the ground filled the silence that permeated the mansion.

Harry turned around to face Lara.

She had abandoned the casual look she had worn the previous day. She wore a suit reminiscent of the one she had been wearing a week prior when he had first met her. The major difference was that the suit front was spread open to reveal a low-cut blouse, and a white expensive-looking handbag loosely hung from her hand. Where the first had been pure business—besides the thigh-high skirt—this one looked as though sealing a business deal wasn't the only thing Lara was fit to do in the outfit.

Lara seemed to read his mind and frowned. "Get that thought out of your head," she said, her lips curving upwards into a smile.

Harry scowled. "Mind-reading too? That's not fair," he complained, folding his arms across his chest.

Lara's smile took a bemused turn. "I didn't read your mind, Harry, the look on your face was all I needed to know what you were thinking." She paused and licked her lips, before adding on, "And your eyes were a little low… Aren't they your glasses?" She pointed to the ground between them.

Harry looked down, and blinked in surprise. Against the white surface of the floor a single thin black object stood out. In front of him Lara bent down and picked them up off of the ground. Her smile slipped from her face, giving way to a frown.

"They're broken," she observed before holding them out to Harry and straightening up. "How did they get up here?"

Harry stepped forwards and took them from Lara. He trailed his finger over the cracks that ran through the lenses before looking back up to Lara and explaining, "Last night I think Morgan knocked them off, when I got onto the grounds I tried to summon them... I thought it didn't work but I guess it just took a while."

He reached to his back pocket for his wand, but his fingers gripped nothing but air.

"Looking for this?" Lara asked innocently as she drew something out of her handbag—his wand, Harry realized after a moment.

He took it from Lara with a suspicious glance.

At Harry's look Lara shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I took it once you fell asleep so if something ended up sticking into me I'd know what it was," she explained conversationally.

Harry snorted and flicked the tip of the wand at his glasses, nonverbally casting the Repairing charm on them. The glasses shuddered erratically and the cracks sealed up as the charm worked its magic, repairing the glasses to a pristine condition.

Lara was watching in fascination. "You know I have a few broke…" She trailed off as Harry slipped the glasses back onto his face and gave her a reproachful look. "Never mind, I'll just buy new ones."

"Much better."

"Not really," Lara disagreed, but did not go on to explain, instead reaching back into her handbag and withdrawing a notebook a little larger than her hand. "I have a special job for you today," she said as she held out the notebook to Harry. He opened it and she continued, "I need you to go and collect a package from a special bookstore." She smiled pleasantly at Harry. "It's located in a shopping district that your kind reside in and do shopping."

"Horizon Square?" Harry asked as he flipped through the notebook. "The place is called Scerri Scholastics?" He looked up to Lara. "It sounds like one of those stupid bookshops they had when I was in grade school."

Lara's eyebrows rose slightly. "That would be because they are the same company; this however is more of a… franchise. Scerri is the owner of the store, and Scholastics is the brand name." She brought her hand up to her face and tapped her finger on her lips in thought. "At least I assume so, I'm not versed in your world's affairs."

"So you want me to just pick it up? I can have it back in a few minutes, just give me the address and a map."

Lara laughed softly and held up her hand, prompting Harry to stop. "If I had just wanted them to be delivered I could have done so, but I had assumed you would enjoy a small break and a chance to… re-immerse yourself in your… wizard culture, as well as purchase some items—as a business expense of course, provided you're able to keep them secret."

Harry stared at Lara silently; a wave of warmth filled him up from the inside, creating a wholesome, content feeling. At first he wasn't sure if it was natural or artificially created, but after a few more moments he recognized it and smiled at Lara. He stepped forwards to hug her, but Lara kept her hand up between them.

"Hold it, I'm not finished." Lara clucked her tongue in disproval and held up three fingers. "There are three conditions. One, while you're at the bookstore you will purchase a sufficient quantity of material pertaining to warding and magical means of securing a premise. Two, you will also purchase books which you believe would have helped you defeat the Warden Morgan, and third I require you buy a present for me. Nothing too large, a simple trinket will suffice."

"You're making it a condition that I get you a present?" Harry asked flatly, disbelief audible in his voice, along with a hint of annoyance.

"It's the thought that counts," Lara said matter-of-factly.

"It seems like the thought is coming entirely from you," Harry grumbled, ignoring the small voice in his head pointing out that he would have probably gotten her a thank-you gift anyway; the tone of the voice reminded him of a certain bushy-haired witch.

Lara shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Harry before holding out a rectangle piece of paper. "This is a cheque for a fairly sizable amount, it should do for today." She reached out and clasped Harry's hand as he moved to take the slip of paper, and placed something else in his hand. "Use this if you need to contact me."

She let go and Harry looked down to his hand.

"A mobile?"

Lara nodded with a pleased expression on her face. "My number is in it as well as Inari's, plus a few others." She pointed to the notebook in Harry's other hand. "This also has some instructions on how to use the cell pho-"

"I know how to use a phone," Harry snapped with a scowl.

Lara's gaze met Harry's calmly and she stared at him silently for several seconds. "I see," she finally said coolly. She dropped her hands to her sides, stepped back and turned away. "Have a nice day Harry, I will see you when you return."

The pleasant feeling that had been filling him up had suddenly vanished down the hole which had opened up in the bottom of his stomach at the sudden rush of anger. He watched the back of Lara's head as she walked out of her room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he had no idea where the sudden irritation had come from, especially since Lara had done nothing to deserve it, besides try to help him.

His gaze travelled down to the notebook, cheque and mobile in his hands. Maybe he'd get her an extra present as an apology. After a few moments of staring down at the items in his hands he shook his head and moved off of the balcony and out of the room.

* * *

Harry was lost in thought as he walked down one of the main corridors between Lara's room and his own quarters. His eyes were glued on the front page of the notebook in his hand. It had listed on it the information about the place Lara wanted him to go to—Horizon Square, the Chicago equivalent to Diagon Alley, according to the notepad. The information listed was pretty basic; where it was located, how to get in. On the next page there was a crude diagram of where the bookshop was in the square, along with a small caption in what Harry assumed to be Lara's handwriting. As Harry approached the door of his room he shuffled the items in his hands into his left and held them to his front. He opened the door with his free hand and moved to step inside.

"Harry!" a feminine shout came from behind him; he was left no time to react, the next second someone slammed into his back and sent him crashing forwards into his room. The items he had held went sprawling all over the floor in front of the door. He could see the notebook half open on the floor, the cheque next to it. His eyes fell upon his wand, which was still rolling across the floor. A pair of hands suddenly wrapped around his eyes, causing his vision to go blank. He suddenly had a dreadful confirmation of who had jumped on him.

"Guess who?" Inari's voice whispered into Harry's ear.

"Inari," Harry greeted flatly.

"Aw," Inari pouted and slid her hands off of Harry's face. She remained sitting on his back however, with her knees resting on the ground at his sides. "You're no fun," she complained mildly.

"And you're predictable," he retorted before turning his head to look back at the black haired teen. "Gerroff," he grunted out as he reached back to push Inari off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Inari pout and fold her arms across her chest. She was wearing the same clothes as she had the night prior, and from the rumpled look of them and the disarray her dark hair was in, Harry could venture a guess that she hadn't been back to her room yet.

"Not until you apologise for leaving me in the Library all night!" she said sourly and dug her knees into Harry's sides. Harry caught himself in the middle of a disturbing mix of a laugh and a snort. Inari's eyes widened and her lips split into a large grin. "You're ticklish?" she asked, her breath excitable.

"No," Harry shook his head while his mind quickly came up with an excuse. "You just hit my funny bone, and besides, I gave you a blanket," he explained slowly before he reached down to pry Inari's knees out of his sides. He squirmed violently as Inari's knees once again dug into his sides. Unwanted laugher escaped him as he writhed under the girl. He swung his arm behind him to knock her off and caught her on the side.

Inari gave a short yelp as she toppled off of Harry onto the ground next to him. Harry pulled himself up and glanced over to the Raith scion. Inari lay on her back on the floor with a sour look on her face. Her bluish-grey eyes were locked on the ceiling and refused to go anywhere near Harry. Harry gave an amused sigh and mumbled an apology before he began to collect the spilt objects off of the floor. "Sorry Inari, I have an errand to run for Lara and I want to get it done before midday."

Inari's eyes flickered over to Harry and the sour look upon her face threatened to slip. She bit down on her lip, and in a shocking display of self restraint managed to wait a full thirty seconds before she couldn't resist any longer and scrambled onto her feet, by which time Harry had already picked up all of the items and dropped them onto his bed—minus his wand which had disappeared up his sleeve.

"An errand?" she asked with a cheeky grin. "What kind? Can I come?" She jumped on Harry's bed, ignoring the items he had dumped on it, and bounced a few times against the springy mattress.

Harry let out a bark of laughter and shook his head before gesturing to Inari. "Look away." Inari complied and flopped backwards onto the bed, fixating her gaze on the white-washed ceiling once again. "You can't come," Harry explained as he began to get changed from his crumpled—though magically cleaned—clothes. "It's a… special store."

"A Pornostore you mean?" Inari teased as she lifted her legs up off of the bed and kicked at the air above her. "I'm allowed to go to those as long as I don't buy anything, at least with Lara." She paused and seemed to think something over. "Did you know Lara is gonna get me a job at the next movie she's going to be starring in?" She rolled over and looked at Harry, who had fixed her with a stare of disbelief. "Not as an actor," she specified, "as a stage hand, you know, like a director assistant."

Harry blinked his eyes as he slipped a predictably white t-shirt on.

He had placed his wand on the top of the drawer from where he had taken out his clothes. It was a mistake. "What's that?" Inari asked as she slipped an arm out from underneath her and pointed it towards the wand.

"It's a conductor wand," Harry lied smoothly. "For orchestras."

"You are a conductor guy?" Inari asked, her eyes wide. "I didn't know you were into music, I am too you know, I lik…" She trailed off at Harry's blank stare. "Right, you don't care," she said under her breath and flopped down on to the top of the bed, then mumbled something into the sheets that Harry couldn't catch.

"Pardon?" Harry asked as he walked back towards the bed, and slipped his wand into his back pocket. He began to pick the items off of the bed, starting with the slip of crumpled paper. He glanced down at the writing on it before asking, "What do I do with this? Do I give it to a bank or-?" He held the slip of paper up to Inari, who rolled over and snatched it out of Harry's hands.

She was silent for a few moments before she let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Wow, is this like your paycheck or something?" She paused. "You just go in to a bank and they'll make an account for you, or you could withdraw it, I suppose." She held it out to Harry, only to pull it back as he reached for it. "Uh, uh, uh, why would Lara give you this much for an errand?" She grinned. "Gonna get something extra?"

Harry scowled and snatched it from Inari's hand, quicker than she could react, causing the thin girl to pout in disappointment. "Maybe I am," he said dismissively as his expression faded away. He glanced down to the writing on the cheque and did a quick calculation in his head before finally coming up with a number. Harry groaned and palmed his face. The amount on the slip was almost one fiftieth of what the salary that he had been allocated was.

"Funny Lara, real funny," Harry grumbled under his breath. "Making me pay for your errand and making me buy the stuff you want me to—and get you a gift, you'll be lucky if I get you anything but a Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"You're getting Lara a present?" Inari asked with mock wonder and a hint of confusion. Her expression turned innocent and she held her head up off of the bed under her. "What are you gonna get her? If you don't know exactly I could tell you, she and I kinda have the same tastes, so what I'd like she would as well."

"I'll find out on my own, thanks," Harry said calmly, ignoring the look Inari gave. "But I'll try and get you something as well," he added on after a quick thought.

Inari's face broke out into a large and pretty smile.

"Thanks Harry!" she chirped out before rolling off of the bed and onto her feet. Just as she was about to leave her eyes fell upon a glossy object on the bed next to her; she picked it up and held it in her hand. She immediately recognized what it was from the look of surprise in her eyes. She glared up at Harry accusingly. "You didn't tell me you had a phone?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and held his hand out to Inari. "I just got it," he said.

Inari nodded thoughtfully before rapidly pressing a series of buttons on the phone. A moment later a beep sound came from it and she slapped it into Harry's hand. Harry stared dumbstruck down at her, before opening his mouth to ask what she had done.

"I just sent a message from your phone to mine with your phone number," Inari explained before Harry was able to utter a single word.

"Oh," Harry murmured dumbly, then shook himself out of the minor stupor. "Alright, just go, I want to-"

"Get it done before midday," Inari interrupted exasperatedly before she folded her arms across her chest. A suspicious look passed over her face, and a split-second later she suddenly lunged backwards, only to come to a quick stop as Harry stuck his arm out and caught her around the stomach. "Harry!" she complained as Harry's arm hooked around her midsection.

"Don't even think about it," Harry snapped as he took a few steps towards his door and pulled the struggling Inari along with him. Inari let out an almost hysterical laugh as she slapped her hands against his arms in a mock-violent way. Harry moved to push her off of him, but Inari managed to wrap her arms around his neck from his side before he could. She pulled herself against Harry and tried to topple them both over, but ultimately failed. Inari's laughter slowly died down as she muffled her mouth against Harry's shoulder. She suddenly stopped moving completely, and Harry blinked in surprise at the sudden change. "What's the matter?" he asked confusedly.

"Huh?" Inari mumbled as she lifted her head up off of Harry's shoulder; her eyes found Harry's after a few moments and a frown marred her face. She slowly leaned up to Harry's face and her eyes narrowed slightly. She sniffed his hair lightly and after a few moments leaned backwards, with a guarded expression on her face. "You smell… interesting, what did you do last night?" she asked slowly.

Harry stared at Inari's face dumbstruck. He lifted the collar of his shirt up and sniffed lightly. He couldn't smell anything except a faint husky, feminine smell, probably from Lara, on the other hand the smell of sweat and singed threads from the previous night might have soaked into his skin. "Nothing… important," he finally managed to say.

Inari's eyes narrowed and she stepped backwards, folding her arms across her chest with a knowing smirk upon her face. "Really?" she asked sarcastically. "It smells like you had a rather… hot night."

"You shouldn't be able to smell anything like that," Harry said slowly. "I cleaned up pretty well before I went to sleep."

"I have a good nose." Inari tapped her nose sullenly. "You definitely had an interesting time last night, didn't you?" she teased him before giving a cheeky wink; her voice hitched slightly, but it happened so quickly Harry wasn't all that sure that he hadn't imagined it. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, as long as you get me that present."

"You can't blackmail me with that," Harry pointed out in good humour.

"Really?" Inari asked innocently, leaning forward on her toes. "So if I told... Madeline what you did, you'd be alright with it?" A look of satisfaction crossed her face as Harry stiffened.

"Why would she care?" he asked after a moment of consideration.

"She had her eye on you from that night," Inari explained with a forced grin. "She's been calling me a bit, trying to find a reason to visit, I wonder why she'd want to do that. She'd be devastated if she knew that you and Lara wer-"

"Me and Lara?" Harry interrupted. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Lara both..." Inari trailed off and waggled her eyebrows. "Last night, didn't you?"

Harry blinked. "No we didn't."

Inari gave Harry a disbelieving look. "But you spent the night in her room, didn't you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't mean anything happened."

Inari's demeanour took on an exasperated quality. She shook her head and gave Harry a small smile before waving her hand lightly and walking out of the room without another word.

Harry watched on blankly as Inari left the room, and giggles began to sound from the outside of the hallway. Harry shook his head and closed the door to his room behind him before making his way towards the stairs.

* * *

As Harry reached the bottom of the flight of stairs he skipped the dining room completely. It wasn't used except for dinner, and even then it was sparsely occupied. Most of the non-servant occupants of the mansion were rarely home except to sleep. Besides Inari there were few people who could boast considerable time spent in the mansion, and even then when she could get away with it she was out and about, taking in the offerings the state had to offer.

However, one thing he had learned was that at any given time something was in the kitchen waiting to be eaten. Thankfully after the first 'attempt' at eating from there he had decided to stop taking Inari's advice on what to eat. Though, he had taken to making sure to not eat in front of Inari, unless what he was eating hadn't once been alive and kicking—literally. It usually ended with a tirade about the 'poor animals' and the steroids.

The smell of toast was wafting through the hallways close to the kitchen. The warm smell counterbalanced the chilly temperature of the lower floors. One problem with the marble interior of the Raith's ground floor was that it was freezing during the morning and night. As per usual the servants he passed did their best to ignore him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of brown hair, and for moment Harry thought it was Beatrice, only for it to turn out to be his imagination.

The moment Harry stepped into the kitchen a wave of delicious heat struck him. On one side of the kitchen a pot full of porridge sat bubbling on the stove. Beside it, a grill was splattered with several eggs, all sizzling slowly. A small distance away a toaster popped up two slices of toasted bread. Harry glanced around the kitchen idly and stepped forwards, inching closer to the toaster. He plucked one of the slices out of the toaster and took a bite.

A pretty-boy servant walked back into the kitchen from the back of the room, he took notice of Harry and a flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes. Without a word the servant walked over to the oversized pantry on the other side of the kitchen. A few moments later he walked out with a single slice of black spotted bread in his hand. Harry smiled apologetically at the man and said a garbled "Sorry," before he chewed the mouthful he had and repeated it in a much clearer voice. His apology went unaccepted though; as soon as the man had reset the bread in the toaster he walked out of the room again.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and finished off the slice of toast before glancing around the half-empty kitchen for an opened carton of milk. Finding none, he slipped his way past a few dutiful maids to the large fridge on the side of the kitchen and collected one from inside. As he opened it and took a drink he saw a slip of glossy black hair from the corner of his eye. He frowned, turned his head to the right and almost dropped the liter carton from his hand.

"Thomas?" Harry asked in surprise.

On the other side of the kitchen Thomas stood, looking momentarily stunned. "Harry?" he asked with an equally surprised tone.

An awkward silence filled the kitchen, though the servants didn't seem to notice and went about their usual business. After a few moments Thomas put on a friendly smile and walked over to Harry. "Morning," he greeted.

"Morning," Harry repeated, stunned, as he leaned against the fridge door beside him.

"Sorry about la-"

"About last ni-"

They both attempted to speak at the same time only to both stop suddenly. A second awkward silence occurred between them, before Thomas spoke.

"You first," he offered with a weak grin.

Harry smiled just as weakly.

"Sorry about last night, when Morgan attacked me I wasn't thinking. I forgot all about you once we started fighting, he was…a bit much. The only reason I managed to escape is because he was too pissed to think straight,"

Through the short confession the friendly smile on Thomas's lips slowly bled away, leaving him with a tired and guilty look on his face.

"It's not your fault," Thomas murmured, reaching up and massaging the bridge of his nose. "Morgan only attacked you because Paul traded information about you to them, in exchange for the recognising that Lara wasn't the cause of the Warden's deaths. The only person in danger was you, during the meetings the accords dictate that no official party is allowed to attack another. A few years back it occurred, and, well… The entire war between the White Council and the Red Court is because of it."

Harry silently listened and ingested the information. "So I was only there as a… sacrifice?" he asked as the guilt inside him faded away and was replaced with a simmering anger.

"So to speak," Thomas agreed hesitantly, before a look of indecision crept over his face. "Believe me Harry, I had no idea until Paul began to talk about you, and by then it was too late to do anything, there wasn't even enough time to warn you before Morgan was out of his seat and running towards you."

The smell of bacon began to fill the room, only a few servants were left in the kitchen. The servants had begun to creep away the moment that Thomas had entered the room.

"So that guy—Paul—just randomly decided to rat me out to the other wizards?" Harry asked calmly, despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

"Seems so," Thomas agreed without hesitation as his friendly demeanour slipped back onto his face. He brought his hand up to his chin and rubbed his stumble cheeks. "Could I get you to do me a favour today, Harry?" he asked suddenly, meeting Harry's eyes directly.

"Sorry, I've got things I need to do," Harry said icily before his mind flickered back to something Thomas had said. "You said he gave them information about me, what did he say to them?" he demanded to know.

Thomas held his hands up in a defeated manner and smiled, amused, at Harry. "Unfortunately I have things to do right now. Justine is a bit sick and I've decided to make her breakfast in bed." He paused and gave Harry a winning smile. "I have some things I need to tend to as well, though, if you would deliver a letter to an associate of mine I might have some time later to talk with you over a drink?"

There was a pleading look in Thomas's eye that had the anger Harry was feeling drain away, leaving only confusion. "Just a letter, right? Drop it off and that's it?"

Thomas nodded. "You just need to drop it off, though you might like the guy. He's a bit rough around the edges but has a good sense of humor, and as a plus he doesn't like the Warden Morgan either."

Harry gave Thomas a withering glare.

Thomas countered it with a forced-looking smile before he slipped past Harry and began to pile things onto a tray that laid on the bench in the middle of the kitchen. He took the two slices of raisin toast and dropped them onto the tray, before moving it over to the grill. Harry watched on in fascination as Thomas slipped the eggs onto the fruity toast and proceeded to add various condiments onto the top. Harry absently noted that one of the slices was slightly burnt. Apparently Thomas did as well, he frowned slightly.

"Justine has a skewed taste," Thomas explained over his shoulder as he walked towards one of the fridges in the room, giving Harry a chance to look at the nearly complete 'breakfast'. He couldn't identify everything that was on the two piles. He was faintly sure that the green slices resting on top were pickle slices. Harry almost gagged.

"What can you do?" Thomas asked with a shrug as he placed a half-full cup of orange juice onto the tray. He picked the tray up off of the table and faced Harry. "I'll send one of the maids to you in a few minutes with the letter."

"I don't know where to deliver it to," Harry stated.

"The directions will be on the letter," Thomas said as he walked past Harry and out of the kitchen.

Harry watched as Thomas disappeared from the kitchen doorway. A heavy feeling settled down on him. As much as Thomas looked like Riddle, they were two very different people. Harry didn't know if he could stand making something as… interesting as Justine's breakfast, even if it was for someone he cared about. He'd probably throw up halfway through.

As Harry glanced back to the rest of the kitchen to see if there was anything else left to eat, he spied a slightly familiar, boyish-looking man enter the room. The man's eyes lingered on the toaster for a few moments before they flickered towards Harry and they made eye contact. Harry was on the receiving end of a mute glare. He shrugged. "It wasn't me; Thomas came in and took them for Justine."

The look that the man gave him told Harry the servant didn't believe him at all. He continued to glare at Harry even as Harry backed up, turned towards the door behind him and walked out of the kitchen. The hair on the back of his neck prickled slightly, and even as he passed out the door and walked out of sight, he could still feel the glare following him through the walls. It only relented after Harry passed by the living room.

Harry's mind was revolving around the previous night, specifically around a certain Italian 'Negotiator'. People trying to kill him was fine, it was almost a yearly occurrence. But being ratted out by someone on the other hand aggravated him to no end. If he had been told he was going to be used to take the heat off of Lara he may have felt differently, but as it was, the next time he saw 'Paul' his repertoire of spells was going to be put into excessive use. Harry's lips quirked up in an amused grin; he was especially thinking about a certain stinging hex.

His musings were cut short as he rounded a corner and bumped into someone—a girl, with a fair complexion, brown eyes and matching hair, which were tied back in a loose ponytail, she wore a light blue sundress that swept down her body and stopped just at her knees, leaving her lower legs bare, along with a pair of simple matching sandals upon her feet. She looked familiar, although at first he didn't make the connection.

"Harry?" the girl asked slowly, her eyes widening in surprise.

Harry blinked in surprise. "Beatrice?" he asked warily.

A happy smile broke out on Beatrice's face. "Did you sleep well, Harry?"

Harry stared at Beatrice with his mouth ajar for a few moments. "I suppose so," he finally answered. "Last night was a blur."

Beatrice nodded before a nervous look passed over her face. After more than a small while Harry couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong?"

Beatrice gave Harry an apologetic look and shuffled her feet. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit nervous," she admitted.

"About what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Last night," Beatrice began to say, "you said today you'd spend the day with me… I was wondering if you'd like to have a picnic with me?" She smiled shyly up at Harry.

Harry stared at Beatrice's face for a while before he held himself back from swearing.

"About that…" he began to say with a guilty look upon his face. Beatrice's face went blank. "Lara asked me to go on an errand today, and I'm supposed to drop something off for Thomas."

Beatrice nodded acceptingly, but Harry could have sworn that at the mention of Lara's name an angry glint registered in her eye, if only for a moment.

"But I'll be done before midday," Harry said quickly, causing Beatrice to smile happily.

"I'll make sure to be ready by then," she murmured to herself. She tilted her head to the side. "Is there anything you'd prefer to eat?" she enquired.

"Anything is fine," Harry answered after a few moments of thinking.

"Is it acceptable if I bri—" Beatrice began to ask.

"Whatever you want I'll eat it," Harry interjected before smiling in an apologetic fashion. "Sorry, I need to hurry up and leave if I want to be back in time for the picnic."

Beatrice nodded and stepped to the side to allow Harry to go by. As he walked past her she made a small noise and stepped forwards.

"Ah, Harry... do you like mangos?" she asked quietly.

Harry blinked in surprise as Beatrice stepped towards him, but stopped walking and turned to answer. "I like most fruits," he paused and crinkled his nose, "except pears, can't stand them."

Beatrice gave a small laugh and nodded with a smile, before she turned away and began walking towards the kitchen, where Harry had come from.

Harry smiled in a bemused manner as he watched Beatrice walk out of sight. A few moments later he turned away and began walking towards the lobby. As he went he withdrew the small notepad from his pocket, quickly flipped through the first few pages and noted what was on each page; on the first was an address with 'entrance' scribbled below it, on the next was a hand-drawn map, with directions written on the back of the previous page.

The last page that had something on it caused Harry to chuckle despite himself; '_Don't forget my present_' was highlighted, underlined and circled. Harry glanced up from the notepad and to his surprise found himself a hall away from the lobby. As he walked into the lobby, Harry was mildly surprised to find it empty for all but a single person.

By the doorway a timid girl stood, she wore the standard maid outfit and could not have been more than five feet tall. She had light-brown hair and as she turned to Harry he noticed that it hung down over her face, shielding two large, wide-open grey eyes. For a moment nothing registered in her eyes as they made contact with Harry's, but a moment later recognition flared and she turned and began to walk towards him with quick steps.

Harry caught sight of an envelope in her hand and began to walk towards her with a slight smile. "Hi, did Thomas send you?" he asked.

The girl nodded and held out the letter in her hand. Harry reached out and to take it but found the girl held on—quite tightly from the look of her hand. Harry gave the girl a look of confusion, which was returned with a doe-eyed look.

"Can I have it please?" Harry asked gently.

He received a nod again but still the maid's hand didn't relinquish it. A shiver ran through the maid as if she were afraid, and a moment later Harry couldn't help but assume that was the case by the look in her eyes. Harry doubted she'd have been able to hide it.

"I'm Harry," Harry tried with a strained smile. "What's your name?"

He received a soft murmur of an answer. "Roschilda."

"That's a nice name," Harry complimented kindly. "Can you please let go of the letter? I'm supposed to deliver it for Thomas."

Ever so slowly Roschilda's grip on the letter lessened until it slipped from her hand.

"Thank you," Harry offered lightly with a smile as he glanced down at the letter and read the address printed on top of it. He had as much of an idea of where it was as of where the wizarding section was with the address and map, he mused. He'd have to Apparate to get to Horizon Square, and from there he could probably find an actual map.

"Was there anything else you were supposed to give me?" Harry asked curiously when Roschilda remained still in front of him. A quick shake of the head was the answer he received.

"I'm going to go then," Harry explained as he side-stepped around the brunette.

Roschilda nodded again, but remained in place.

"Bye then," Harry offered as he walked out of the front doors.

Harry idly shut the door behind him and made his way around the side to a more secluded area. It only occurred to him a few seconds later that he would have been as fine if he had just stayed inside and gone into an empty room , he just tended to forget that the Raith's mansion was not protected by any apparition wards, the way most were.

As soon as Harry turned the corner he disappeared with a token Apparation pop. A moment later Harry felt his body jerk as an unknown force pulled on him.

* * *

"Please move off of the catchpad," a dull male drone caught Harry's attention immediately as the world swam into view. With an unceremonious shove he was pushed forwards.

Harry leaned to the side just in time to avoid a stream of people appearing around him. The room he was in was huge. There were people everywhere walking towards one of three doors. While there were quite a few people in the room there wasn't too much to look at. White slates of marble stood out against the dull grey of the concrete floor, though they were worn dirty by the footprints of the visitors. In the middle of the room a stairwell went down into the ground, and from the sound of it, Harry could hear trains and the bustling of a crowd. Fireplaces lined the walks as well, though they didn't seem to be in use.

A moment later Harry was proven wrong as an emerald burst of flame erupted from inside of one, and out stepped a man holding a small frightened-looking child in his arms. Behind them the flames continued as three more people appeared: a woman and two disgruntled-looking boys, neither of who looked to be more than ten years old.

As soon as the last of them appeared they made their way out of the building, just like everyone else.

Harry soon found himself walking out of the second-side exit along with the crowd.

The street wasn't too packed, in fact there were very few people on it. Shops lined the street for as far as he could see. Most of them were specialized in something; a few blocks down a big pink sign stood out, reading 'Witches' Wardrobe', and a few more down another sign read 'Magical Men's Robes.'

Harry began walking east along the avenue and withdrew the notebook from his pocket. The crude map didn't do much to help him figure out where he was. There were only a few locations noted on it and as far as he could see there wasn't a bank, a bookstore or a tavern in sight. Despite himself Harry kept walking, he reasoned that eventually he would be able to find one of the places, and from there he could—or he could just ask someone.

"Excuse me," Harry awkwardly said as a brown-cloaked man walked by, "do you know where the bank is, or 'The Bludger' is?"

The man snorted and continued to walk by, ignoring Harry.

Harry stared after the man with a withering glare.

"You're looking for the bank?" a jovial voice called out from behind Harry. "You're going the wrong way, my friend."

Harry turned around and found himself looking at a smiling man who was approaching him. The man couldn't have been more than five feet tall, and had greyish brown hair and blue eyes.

"I and my associate," he gestured behind him to a man as short as he was, "were just heading down to the bank to collect our winnings from the annual shop keepers awards!" he explained enthusiastically.

"Ah, yeah," Harry began to say after a few moments of staring at the shorter man with surprise. "I need to get a cheque changed into wizarding money."

"Well then, follow us and we will show you the way!" the bright-eyed man exclaimed before turning to his friend. "Come on Jerry, I've been waiting for this ever since I opened up my store!"

'Jerry' didn't seem to share his friends' enthusiasm. "Just be on with it, I can't leave my shop unattended to for long or else those mangy hags will try and break in."

"Yes, yes of course, it won't take long!"

Harry could only stare in bemusement as the shorter man began walking back the way Harry had come.

"I'm Roger by the way," the first man explained over his shoulder. "Roger of Annalies Pet Store!"

The man fell silent expectantly.

"Sorry, I'm not from around here, this is my first visit," Harry said.

"Ah, yes, my mistake," Roger said. "Of course you would be if you didn't know where the bank was."

"Ignore him," Jerry said in a gruff voice. "He's an idiot."

Roger didn't retort, the short man seemed to be lost in his own world as he began to hum to himself. As they neared the end of the street Roger turned into the last building, which Harry quickly recognised as the place where he had Apparated to.

"I just came out of here," Harry explained in surprise.

"Yes, yes, you came out of the wrong side it seems," Roger said happily as he continued walking from one end of the building to the other. "A common mistake indeed, much quicker this way though." He continued to ramble on as they slipped their way past the exiting masses.

As soon as Harry left the Apparition point he was surprised to see a wooden building right in front of him with 'The Bludger' plastered across it.

"The tavern?" Harry ventured a guess.

"Right you are—I forgot your name?" Roger turned around with an apologetic look upon his face.

"I'm Harry," Harry offered. "Where is the bank?"

"Right next to it," Jerry explained along with a pointed finger. "If the knuckle head would stop fussing around we'd be there already."

Roger looked slightly abashed but his mood quickly picked up again. "Well it was nice meeting you Harry! I look forward to you visiting my shop—remember Annalies Pet Store—the one with the big sign!" he exclaimed with a bright smile and stuck his hand out to Harry.

Harry grasped the shorter man's hand and shook it, or rather was shaken by Roger's enthusiasm.

"Bye," Jerry said shortly as he turned away and began walking to the bank. Roger giddily followed after him, and he paused after a few feet and turned back and waved at Harry with a big smile on his face.

Harry waved back hesitantly before turning his attention to the notebook grasped in his hand. He had a pretty good idea where the bookstore was, but before that he had to take a quick detour to the bank. Even if the thought hadn't occurred to him by itself, Lara had circled the bank repeatedly. Harry didn't know whether to be amused or offended in the end.

He settled on amusement as he walked towards the entrance of the bank.

The bank itself was fairly large, a bit longer than the tavern, which included rooms on the upper floors and stretched from one end of the block to the middle; it was made entirely out of white marble, but whereas the Gringotts bank in London was pure white, this one had waves of discolouration seeping through in patterns.

The bank took up more than a fair share of the block; compared to the largest shops around it was still twice the size. The interior was different to what Harry had been expecting; for one thing it was only half the size on the inside it was on the outside. Down the centre of the building rows of counters were spread out. They all stood separate—and a few dozen down Harry could see Roger and Jerry talking with one of the bank staff, a middle-aged man dressed in a brown robe.

There were a few people standing around inside the bank, some were patiently waiting, and others were staring across the rows of tellers like hawks. Harry approached one of the more reasonable-looking of them.

"Excuse me," Harry addressed a bored-looking woman. "I need to get some money changed, what should I do?"

The woman glanced at him once before answering, "Just approach a staff member and tell them what you want to do, it isn't hard."

"Right, thanks," Harry said before turning away.

It probably wouldn't have been hard, except for the fact that none of the counters were free, and there were at least a dozen people waiting as well. Down the other end of the bank an old woman began to stand up from in front of a counter and the other people in the bank began walking towards it. At the same time as they reached the counter, and one slipped into the seat ahead of the rest, another man stood up less than four stalls away from Harry. He took a step forward before stopping and turning to the lady beside him.

"Do you wan—" he began to ask before he was coolly interrupted.

"Thank you but I am waiting on someone."

Harry gave a quick smile and made his way to the counter. None of the other people seemed to mind as he took the seat, at least the ones who hadn't rushed to the other end of the bank; those were glaring daggers at him.

"Welcome to Baccus," the man at the counter said without an ounce of enthusiasm. "How can I help you today?"

"I want to change a Muggle cheque into wizard money," Harry explained as he withdrew the folded cheque from inside the notebook and held it out to the man in front of him.

The man took it with a detached interest, that is until he read what was on it. The man's eyes widened slightly and a low whistle escaped him. "Got paid, huh?" A moment later he dismissed his own question. "Never mind, doesn't matter, what's your account number?"

"I don't have an account," Harry explained awkwardly.

The man couldn't help but snort. "And you're going to be carrying this much around how?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Can I open an account?"

"Normally that would be the best thing to do," the man agreed, "but you aren't from around here right? It'd be impractical for you, know what I mean?"

Harry nodded unsurely.

"I'd recommend you use a MagiCard, it's a small card that most shops in the square accept, much easier than carrying around a bag of gold, and safer."

"I'd rather take the bag of gold," Harry stated with a grin.

The man shrugged. "It's your money, but I should warn you that clearing a Muggle cheque takes a few hours."

Harry frowned. "And the card thing?"

"Instant, no wait time besides a few documents," the clerk explained with a smile.

"Gimme the card then," Harry decided after a few seconds.

"Right you are." The man smiled as he pulled out a sheet of paper from under the desk. "Now just fill this out and you'll be good to go."

Ten minutes later Harry left the bank with a still warm card in his hand along with a map of the square, generously provided free of charge by the bank staff. The map itself was in the form of a folded brochure. It opened up into an animated map of the square. The main walkway vaguely resembled one of the impossible staircase pictures Harry had seen in an art gallery that his class had been taken to see on a school fieldtrip when he had been nine. The only difference was that at points the path seemed to overlap with itself.

Harry's eyes scanned the map, looking for the closest thing he could find that interested him. He quickly dismissed 'Magical Remedies for the Magically Challenged' and 'Happy Go Fun Time' from the candidates.

"Willy Wonka's Wizards Shop," Harry read aloud. He had, at the first moment, been sure he had misread. But there it was in purple. It was close as well, just below the bank and around the corner from him, if the flashing dot was anything to go by.

The front of the store was flashy, bright purple with animated statues hanging off the walls.

"Come buy some chocolate!" a puppet moose shouted from the wall. 'Chill out with an ice pop!' a wooden penguin squealed.

There were a few young children staring at the animated statues; some with glee on their faces, a few with a look of wonder, and one or two with bored expressions. Harry shook his head in amusement before he walked into the store.

On the map it showed that the shop was almost as large as the bank. At first Harry didn't really believe it from the size of the shop front. But once he passed into the shop itself the sight of the shelves that seemed to go on as far as he could see made it apparent that it was the case. Shelves of sweets—most of which he did not recognize. A large brazen sign was stuck to the right wall; it read 'Imported'. Harry could definitely recognize some of the items on those shelves, or at least a few of them.

At the front of each line of shelves a rack holding miniature satchels hung.

'Noah's Candy Bag: Two of each candy!'

It conveniently lacked a price tag. Not that it really mattered to Harry at that point. The card in his hand was begging to be used.

The bags themselves ranged in colour; from white and black to rainbow glitter. On the bags there were small stickers stuck on the flap. Some read Gummies, others read sour, a few read Italian, Bulgarian, Australian. A particularly bemusing one was Babyfood.

For a moment Harry's eyes scanned the bags before he found one he liked. 'England', it read on the front. Harry picked the brown England sweets-filled bag off of the rack before turning his attention to the rows upon rows of candy.

Harry didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually he was at the front of the store again with an extra bag in his hand. At the very end of the shop they had a section dubbed 'Magically Mundane Sweets'. The shelves had contained some lollies that could almost pass off as normal. Bubblegum that changed the hue of your tongue, which would wash off in water. Whitening Jelly Paste, 'cleans your teeth and tastes like strawberry!' Briefly he toyed with getting it for Hermione before dismissing it on the off chance he'd get a rant about the dangers of magical dentistry.

The list went on. Harry's favorite was probably the Blueberry Breather, which effects were limited to giving your breath, shockingly, the smell and taste of blueberries.

Afterwards, Harry found himself strolling down the shopping area towards one of the largest stores in the alley. The windows held that dulled and dusty look that all bookshops of significance seemed to have. It was probably a charm of some sort, Harry thought as he entered the store. The same charm probably created the musty smell that filled his nostrils, and dimmed the lights to make the high stack of bookshelves more ominous. Really, there was no way a bookshop like this one had these effects as some sort of natural phenomenon.

Harry approached the desk, where a large, tall witch with a classic pock-marked face was finishing her purchasing. With a small murmur of thanks, the witch departed and the shopkeeper beckoned for Harry to come forward. Harry did so, if a tad cautiously. In his life, he had found two types of old wizards. There were those who aged gracefully, growing more and more impressive and giving out a sense of wisdom and power as they grew older. Albus Dumbledore and Ollivander could be placed in this category, wizards of unparalleled wisdom. Then there were those who didn't age gracefully. These witches and wizards hunched over as they grew older, their skin wrinkling up like dry leather and their voices growing wheezy. These wizards were the type to gossip on the street-corner, bemoaning the wizard youth and reminiscing on their own young days. The shopkeeper was a wizard of the latter category, a hunchbacked, wrinkled husk of a man with dull eyes.

"Greetings, young sir," the wizard wheezed out. "How may I, Alfred Scerri, help you today?"

"I'm here to pick up a parcel for a friend," Harry explained with a polite smile.

Harry handed over the small receipt that Lara had given him. The old wizard took it with a gnarled hand and glanced down at it as he hobbled to his backroom. However, the moment he laid eyes on it he stilled. Harry couldn't see his face but the hunched, bent shoulders of the wizard were quivering. Just as Harry was about to speak up, the shopkeeper moved into action with movements that Harry had deemed physically impossible for somebody that age. Within moments, a small book-shaped parcel wrapped in brown paper was in his hands.

"Was there anything else, young sir?" the wizard offered.

"I'll look around," Harry said with a smile.

After buying a few more books that looked particularly interesting, plus a few to satisfy the list that he had been given, Harry practically fled from the bookshop. There had been a few moments of outrage when he found out that the supposedly useful MagiCard that the bank had given him had a inflated interest rate of at least 200% per month. Harry had half the mind to go back into the bank and demand his money back.

In the end, Harry had decided to let it go—for now, at least. He needed the card for now and he had enough money in the bank to cover the inflated interest rates. Still, Harry didn't like being cheated and made a firm mental note to revisit that particular teller at a later date. Now, he only had two more things to look into here at the alley. The first was post. There had to be some way to contact Ron and Hermione and inform them that yes, he was still alive and no, Ron couldn't have his broom. Unfortunately, things worked a little different in the States than they did back home, and not for the better.

"What?" Harry echoed in disbelief. He gave the man a scrutinizing look, wondering if he was being screwed over again. "What do you mean 'outlawed'?"

"The use of owls or birds to deliver messages was deemed as unnecessarily cruel on the poor animals by the Congress of United Warlocks," the balding wizard recited in his nasally-high voice. "Therefore, it was classed as an Article 93 crime by the MALE—that's the Magical Agency of Law Enforcement—three years ago."

"So what do you use for international post?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, you give us the letter and we put it on one of our monthly expeditions to the Romanian Dragon Reserves," the wizard informed him. "We have a large business centred there so it's a regular route. From there, it can be transferred to the local mail agency and forwarded to the recipient. It usually takes about a month or so."

"Never mind then," Harry muttered.

He strolled out of the information shop with a pronounced scowl on his face. He'd just have to find another way. Maybe Lara could help him. Harry continued walking down the alley, glancing at the shops and looking for something that might suit his last order of business. Find Lara a present. But what did you get an extremely beautiful, graceful, tantalizing and, dare he say, sexy, seductress?

His eyes slid across a small, official-looking building and he stopped. A large sign with brazen letters stared back at him. **WARD: **_Wizarding Auctions and Repossession Department_. That caught Harry's interest. After a second of internal debate he decided to give it a try; both on the chance that he might find something Lara liked and because of his own innate curiosity. When he entered, he was greeted by a young witch, wearing glasses, some official-looking robes and a bored expression.

"Welcome to WARD: Wizarding Auctions and the Repossession Department. This department is heavily involved in the repossession and sale of artefacts, both magical and non-magical, from deceased, incarcerated, bankrupt or otherwise incapacitated individuals. Half of our proceeds are delivered to the Kindness for United States Orphans fund," she droned, obviously a well-recited speech. "Please wander around our ground floor. If you are interested in larger items, or items in bulk, please consult with our staff for a catalogue."

"Um…thanks," Harry said weakly. "I'll just look around."

The witch acted as if she hadn't heard him, slumping back in her seat and burying her nose in a magazine. Harry eyed her strangely but shrugged and glanced around the room. There were a lot of items on display along the walls, some of which he was familiar with and others he had never seen before. He began to examine them more closely. There was a small, spindly little silver thing that Harry was tempted to buy if only because he knew Dumbledore had one, but he had no idea what it was. Finally, after a few minutes of browsing, Harry came along the perfect gift.

It was a foe glass, created in the visage of an old-English style handheld mirror. The surface was relatively grimy but Harry thought that after a bit of a polish, it would be a beautiful gift. Even Lara, with her temperamental nature, should be appeased. Well, at least Harry hoped she would. After a quick purchase from the bored witch, Harry left the shop and paused at the end of the alley. He frowned, patting his pockets. He still had that letter to deliver. After twirling on his feet, Harry Disapparated from the alley with a sharp crack.

* * *

The office Harry was looking for was in a building in the middle of Chicago. It wasn't much of a building compared to many of those around it; in fact, it was downright unimpressive. But still it had a security guard on the bottom floor. The security guard had grey hair and looked like the kind that would stare at a glass pane for hours upon end without noticing the things happening around them. At the other end of the building was a broken elevator with a yellow stripped banner over the front. Beside it a bronze plaque was stuck to the wall, and to the far side was a staircase.

The moment Harry pushed open the door to the building he received a sharp glare from the aged guard but it was quickly replaced with an impassive stare. Harry gave what he hoped to be a friendly smile as he walked past the security booth and towards the plaque on the wall. He absently noted that the elevator was indeed worthy of having an out-of-order sign; the doors seemed to be bent out slightly as if something had exploded within it.

Harry dismissed the elevator and scanned the list of names on the plaque. As his eyes ran over the list they brushed over a peculiar etching and came to a halt.

'_H. Dresden : Wizard'_

Harry stared at the neatly engraved name for more than a few moments in wonder. After the moment passed he began to briefly pat his jacket pockets down, and soon pulled out the envelope. He quickly compared the name on the envelope to the name on the plaque.

A few questions had instantly popped up in Harry's mind—how could H. Dresden get away with advertising what he was so blatantly? Why did the American wizards let him get away with it? He quickly pushed the questions to the back of his mind and stuffed the thin envelope back into his jacket pocket.

A second glance to the plaque told Harry the recipient of his delivery was on the fifth floor. He could feel the stare of the security guard on the back of his neck even as he walked towards the staircase and began to ascend it. As he scaled the staircase he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the newest 'curiosity'. As his mind ran its course Harry almost found himself climbing past the fifth floor.

The first door that crossed Harry's vision had 'Consulting firm' emblazoned under its name—he doubted it was the right one, even with the buzz of chatter beyond the door. A little past it another door, almost unnoticeable compared to the first.

HARRY DRESDEN-WIZARD was spelled out on the frosted glass.

Harry couldn't help but stop and after a moment passed he found himself smiling in a vague undefined amusement. He reached forwards and grasped the doorhandle. For a moment a tingle ran through his hand, almost prompting him to let go of the door, but the next second it was gone.

A second thought had him let go of the doorhandle and instead rap his knuckle against the wooden frame.

"Come in," a gruff voice called out from inside.

Harry turned the handle of the door and entered.

The office beyond was surprisingly much like what Harry had expected, neither particularly tidy nor was it messy. To the side there was a small stand with some flyers sticking out. 'Magic for Dummies', 'I'm a Wizard—Ask Me How' stood out at the top of the stacks. Harry was quickly losing his smile. He was beginning to feel like an idiot. He hadn't for a second entertained the idea that H. Dresden—or Harry Dresden—could have been a fake. A few cabinets lined the sides of the room along with an old-fashioned closet, and at the opposite end a desk was placed.

A man sat hunched over the desk, facing Harry directly. He had slightly scruffy dark hair and a rugged look. His lower face was peppered with stubble and had a slightly gaunt look to it. He wore a coat—a duster if Harry was to put a name to it—that almost made Harry snigger. As the man glanced up from the paper work on his desk and stood up the urge to snigger dropped away.

The man was tall, very tall.

"Harry Dresden?" Harry asked without a quiver of unease showing in his voice.

Harry Dresden nodded, but held a suspicious look in his eye. "What can I do for you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself with a slight smile and reached forwards, offering his hand.

A vaguely amused smile met his name and hand. After a few moments of no moves on the wizards' part, Harry was about to pull his hand back. But before he could a strong hand grasped his own and shook it once. Harry couldn't help but notice that the man in front of him hadn't met his eyes for more than a second before glancing away.

"Call me Dresden, it should be easier that way," Dresden said as he released Harry's hand and dropped back into the chair behind him, before motioning for Harry to take the seat opposite him. "Now what can I do for you, Potter?" A second later he added on, "Nice scar by the way."

Harry ignored the remark and decided to delve straight into the matter. "I have a letter for you from Thomas Raith, he asked me to deliver it to you personally."

Whatever friendliness that may have been displayed on Dresden's face drained away at the mention of Harry's 'employer' and suspicion took its place. "Pass it over," was all that Dresden said; it seemed to cover the gist of it. Unfortunately it wasn't all, as of the moment Harry had taken notice of the man's occupation.

"By the way," Harry began to say, "I have a few questions for you." He plucked the envelope out of his pocket and handed it over the desk to Dresden. It was snatched out of his fingers after a moment of hesitation.

"Like what?" Dresden demanded flatly as he tore open the end of the envelope and pulled out the letter from inside.

"Like whether you're an actual wizard or not," Harry began to say before Dresden held up his hand for silence.

After a few moments Dresden scrunched up the letter in his hand and threw it absentmindedly at a paper basket a few meters back from the desk. It missed, bouncing against the wall and missing again the basket by a few centimeters. Harry heard Dresden murmur a curse under his breath.

Dresden turned back to Harry. "Yes and no."

"To what?" Harry asked in mild confusion.

"Yes to I'm a wizard and no to Thomas."

Harry nodded mutely before his eyes passed over a flyer on Dresden's desk. Idly he reached forwards and picked it up off the table; a glance at the front of it had him read the title out loud. "I'm a Wizard ask me how?" Harry glanced up and grinned at Dresden. "What do you tell people in these things?"

Dresden shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Evocation, Circle magic and how I find lost things, common stuff."

"And they let you advertise that you're a wizard in public?" Harry asked, leaning forwards slightly.

Dresden shrugged his shoulders again. "Not much that they can do about it. There isn't any rule that outright says that people aren't allowed to say they're a wizard."

Harry stared calmly at Dresden for a few moments as he mulled over what had been said. "Evocation, that's like fire and stuff right?"

Dresden's eyes still refused to meet his; Harry found that when they came close he himself looked away despite himself. "Fire, wind, flashy stuff," Dresden said with a slight grin.

"You're a White Council Wizard?" Harry found himself leaning away from Dresden at that moment.

Dresden's posture which had been relaxing slightly began rigid in a flash.

The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders. "There isn't much choice of what to belong to, is there?"

Harry nodded slightly. "I don't suppose you know a 'Morgan' do you?" he asked with only the _slightest_ amount of distaste.

Dresden snorted.

"The Warden Commander? Yeah, we don't really get along well." The tone of the gaunt man's voice seemed to convey a dislike more than his words could.

Harry smiled slightly at that. "I can understand that, trying to kill people isn't really the best way to make friends, is it?"

The suspicious look in Dresden's eyes appeared again, this time in full force. Harry suddenly found himself on edge.

"How would you know about that?" Dresden asked slowly, as if it took him some effort to.

Harry felt silent for a few moments as he mulled over his possible answers. Straight out saying that he had been attacked by Morgan wasn't a great idea—especially if Dresden belonged to the same White Council which the Wardens were a part of. But on the other hand there seemed to be no love lost between the two by Dresden's own admission.

"We had a run in the other night," Harry admitted.

"You're a wizard?" Dresden asked with mild scepticism.

Harry nodded and for a moment considered showing his wand, but decided against it.

"What are you doing with the White Court then?" Dresden asked in an even tone.

"I didn't have much choice," Harry grudgingly admitted, before he noticed the look in Dresden's eye. "Not a thrall," he added on, unfortunately it seemed to cause Dresden to become more on edge.

"What's your excuse then?" Dresden asked flatly. "Fell in love?" The sarcasm couldn't be lost.

Harry snorted. "Blackmailed actually."

"A better excuse," Dresden admitted grudgingly. "But that they have something to blackmail you with—"

"They threatened to kill my friends," Harry answered irritably.

"That's a better reason than most," Dresden conceded, finally relaxing some. "You know there are people out there who'd be willing to help you out."

Harry frowned and shook his head. "What does a Wizard do professionally?" he asked turning away from the subject on hand.

"Find things mostly," Dresden answered. "Some police work on the side when they don't know where to go, and a few special cases which I'd as soon drop than get paid for." The tall man glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall. "Look, as much as I'd like to talk I'm hungry and am about to go get a bite to eat."

Dresden made no move to get up at all, Harry noticed, in fact the way he had been hunched over the desk when he had entered seemed to suggest he was going to be stuck in the office for a while.

Harry mulled over it for a few moments before he spoke again. "Can I join you, my treat?"

Dresden looked up, blinked, and after a few seconds smiled in an almost evil way. "Do you like steak sandwiches?"

* * *

"One second," Dresden grunted out before he stuck his head out the window of the multicoloured—mostly blue—Beetle.

Harry gripped the seat under him as Dresden reversed and a whiplashed second later accelerated forwards, cutting off of the main road and into a side alley that was too small for any conventional car to fit through. As soon as they entered the alleyway Dresden slowed down, but it didn't stop Harry from holding onto the seat under him for dear life.

"In the office," Dresden began to speak, "you mentioned something about seeing Morgan yesterday; what happened?" He glanced to Harry as he finished before his eyes flicked back to the road, just in time to nudge the steering wheel and avoid a small pothole.

Harry glanced sideways at Dresden. "Thomas's father asked me to escort him to a meeting to clear something up with them and it ended with Morgan attacking me because he thought I killed one of the Wardens."

Dresden was silent, and the car slowly rolled to a stop.

"Did you?" he asked quietly as he turned to face Harry.

"No, I didn't," Harry answered. "They attacked a woman and I defended her not knowing who she was, but in the end they were killed by the fires that they had cast." His tone left little more to say.

"She was a one of the White Court?" Dresden asked calmly as the car began to move again, weaving around the city blocks through the alleyways.

"She was," Harry answered with a grimace.

"I guess that's where the blackmai—" Dresden began to say before he suddenly stopped talking—and stopped the car.

Harry grimaced and glared at Dresden out of the corner of his eye. Dresden's eyes were flickering all over the dashboard of the car, everywhere, almost as if he was looking for something.

"Hell's bells," he hissed out angrily, "it had to be today of all days!" He jerked his head towards Harry. "Get out of the car!"

Harry didn't need telling twice, especially as he felt the seat under him _writher_. He yanked his seatbelt off and kicked open the door—for a moment he thought he heard a noise of complaint from Dresden, but then a moment later Dresden's door had been kicked open.

"What is it, Dresden?!" Harry demanded to know as he watched the interior of the car begin to discolour. His eyes caught sight of a his knapsack, full of the books he had purchased he reached in and yanked the bag out.

"Mold demons," came Dresden's answer. "I knew I should have done my spring cleaning," he said with a tone of dry humour.

"Demons?" Harry echoed in disbelief.

"_Mold_ demons," Dresden corrected as he briskly walked to the back of his car.

"Why the hell do you have mold demons in your car?!"

"Guess someone wanted to tell me to start cleaning better," Dresden grumbled as he pried open the boot of the small car. A moment later he withdrew a rune-etched staff out of the boot. Whatever panic Harry might have had was gone as a moment of wonder overtook him.

"You have a staff?"

"Yes—you said you were a wizard as well, right? Help me get rid of them before they finish eating my car," Dresden snapped out, slamming the base of the staff down on the ground; the runes illuminated vibrantly. A furious look was plastered on Dresden's face as he surveyed the car in front of him.

Harry glanced to each end of the alley even as he withdrew his wand; the main streets were nowhere in sight for either end—probably why the 'demons' chose to attack them there. "Are you sure they're demons?" Harry asked sceptically.

At the same time that Harry asked Dresden brandished his staff at the infested car. A moment later an inhuman wail of pain erupted, sounding like a cross between a mandrake and the gurgle of dirty water emptying down a drain. Even as the wail echoed through the air a sludge-like substance poured out of the car and formed into a pulsating blob. A moment later it stilled, only for an innumerable amount of tentacles to erupt from it towards Dresden.

They barely made it within a meter.

"_Ventas servitas!_" Dresden shouted out as he slammed the base of his staff against the ground again. A gale-force wind erupted out of his staff and slammed into the mold demon; it resisted for a moment before the winds tore into it and sent it flying backwards.

"Impressive," Harry grumbled out as he surveyed the smears on the alley walls that the creature had become.

"It isn't gone yet," Dresden said through a grimace as he surveyed his car.

"How do we kill it?" Harry asked slowly as he stared at the withering masses of mold that was beginning to reform.

"Got any bleach?" Dresden asked dryly before he shook his head. "You can't kill demons, you can only destroy the body they manifest in and send them back to the Nevernever."

Harry rolled his wand between his fingers. "No," he admitted. "But I have the next best thing." He flicked the tip of his wand towards the largest mass of the creature and murmured, "_Scourgify_."

He didn't really expect it to work at all. So he wasn't prepared for the violent wailing sound that followed as the fungus and mold fizzed and bubbled, as the spell broke down the substance holding the demon together. Harry's grip on the wand tightened and his heart sped up as he targeted another blob of mold and uttered the spell again.

"Handy little thing," Dresden mused as he watched Harry erase the last vestiges off the possessed mold. A chuckle escaped him as he spotted a small grouping trying to slip away unnoticed, only to be erased as the green-eyed wizard targeted it.

Harry lowered his wand as the last of the mold vanished. He had taken a bit of an extra precaution as well. The next person who used the alleyway would probably wonder why there was a ten foot patch that was cleaner than a public toilet.

"You said it couldn't die—and that once the body was destroyed it'd go back to the Nevernever; does that mean it was a... Sidhe?" Harry asked slowly as he turned to face Dresden.

Dresden's attention seemed to be focused on his car. A wounded look was on the man's face as he stared at the damage inside the car; it looked like it had taken home for ten years in a garbage lot.

"No, demons and Sidhe come from different regions of the Nevernever, I'd recommend not comparing the two unless you feel like having them on your bad side." Dresden's dry humor seemed to hold up even in the face of his busted car. The tall man gave an exaggerated sigh. "Looks like I'll have to take a raincheck for that steak sandwich." He had a wistful tone. "I need to find who summoned the demon and beat the living piss out of them."

Harry blinked and nodded; they had covered most of what he had wanted to talk about on the ride between the office and the mold demons. He shook his head and grinned after a moment. "Now I have an actual reason to tell Thomas why you said 'No'."

Dresden looked at Harry as if he had only just seen him, before he shook his head and smiled slightly.

"You can find your way back to wherever, right?" Dresden asked as he stalked toward the Beetle and delicately placed his staff back inside—before slamming the boot hard enough to rock the car. "You're great with cleaning up stuff. But I don't think you'd have fun chasing this guy down, and I don't really trust you to watch my back, no offence."

Harry nodded understandingly as the older man slipped into his car and shut the door beside him. Dresden turned back and gave a light wave to Harry before he reached over and pulled the passenger door shut. Harry's glare let up and a snicker came forth. He had been about to offer to try and repair the damage the mold demons had done but it seemed his chance was gone. Harry glanced up to the sky. From what little he could see the sun had begun to fall from its midday rise.

A glance back and forth told Harry it was clear, and with a fixed destination in mind he turned on his heel.

* * *

A wave of clean air washed over Harry as he appeared in his room on the upper floor of the Raith mansion. For his first encounter with 'demons', the battle had been surprisingly easy, if tedious and disgusting. Though he doubted he'd ever mention it in polite conversation with his friends back in England, he was grateful that Hermione had been thoughtful enough to drill the incantation for the Cleaning Charm into his head during his second year.

Without a second thought he threw his over-packed bags onto his bed. He was also grateful that the mold demons hadn't been able to get to the books, they had cost a fair bit of coin _and_ time. Though, he grudgingly mused, he was thankful for the opportunity to meet a 'Wizard' that hadn't tried to kill him.

The irony didn't escape him that Dresden's first name was Harry.

A light chuckle escaped Harry as he strolled out of his room. For now he'd take a small break and find Beatrice. He'd have to apologize to her for being late. His mind briefly lingered on the topic of the Mental 'Arts' and whether or not the brunette would allow him to practice on her.

As Harry passed the library, he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye through the slightly ajar door. After a moment of consideration he took a slight detour and stopped by the door, gently prying it open and glancing inside.

Harry stared, and stared, and stared a bit more for good measure.

Inside the library the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room and a light matting had been rolled out. He watched as a decidedly feminine figure moved upon the mat in what Harry assumed to be a dance. He had recognized the tied-back mane of hair almost instantly as Inari's.

The young Raith daughter wore a full-bodied black camisole which cut off at mid-thigh. It took Harry a few moments to realize that he was staring, and a few more to tear his eyes away from the energetically moving Raith daughter. Harry caught sight of a pair of plugs in her ears and rightfully assumed that Inari was... dancing to some music.

Harry slipped into the room and closed the doors behind him, leaving them slightly ajar. Inari had yet to turn around and spot him, so Harry contented himself with standing beside the wall and watching her dance. It wasn't his fault that his eyes wandered, he mused. Not that he doubted any hot-blooded male would blame him. The not-so-subtle curve where her hips and legs met was where his gaze was tempted to look mostly, but it tried its best not to stray from the upper portions of Inari's body.

It seemed whatever dance routine Inari had been doing was finally ending. Her seemingly unchoreographed movements were brought to a complete stop and she padded down her front before groping at something. A moment later she turned towards the door as she reached up and plucked the headphones out of her ears.

Inari's eyes passed over Harry without a thought before her head suddenly snapped back with a look of shock and surprise—and dare Harry say it, embarrassment—emblazoned on her face.

"Harry?!" Inari yelped out, her eyes wide with surprise.

Harry raised his hand and gave a silent wave, though he assumed the grin on his face said enough.

Inari's face flushed red.

"How long have you been watching?" she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.

Harry chortled. "A few minutes," he offered as his grin melted down to an amused smile. "Nice… Outfit" He trailed off and gestured to Inari's body.

The result was her folding her arms tighter across her chest with an indignant look upon her face.

"You could have said something," Inari complained sullenly. "Now I look like an idiot!"

"I enjoyed the show," Harry admitted. "It was very... artistic."

Inari glared at Harry for a few moments before her scowl faltered and a small abashed smile lit up on her lips. "Pervert," she accused offhandedly. A few moments later her attitude perked up. "So, what'd you think?" she asked, taking a few steps forwards into Harry's personal space.

"It was artistic?" Harry repeated, nonplussed.

Inari stared suspiciously up into Harry's before eventually nodding to herself and accepting Harry's statement. "I see," she mumbled under her breath before smiling innocently. "Harry," she began to say, leaning ever so closer, "would you do me a favour?" She stuck out her bottom lip and fluttered her eyelashes.

Harry stared down into Inari's eyes trying to figure out what was coming next. After spending more than a few seconds of searching the periwinkle blue eyes for any kind of thought, he absently wished that he was able to read her mind.

Harry finally leaned backwards. "What?"

Inari gestured behind her at the misplaced furniture. "Help me clean up?" she asked in an adorable fashion.

"Sure," Harry agreed immediately as an idea struck him. "If you'll let me try something on you in return, no questions asked."

Harry's suspicious stare was suddenly mimicked by Inari, along with an accusing glint.

"Nothing quite like _you're_ thinking about," Harry corrected Inari before she even voiced her thoughts. The suspicious glint remained for a few more moments before Inari suddenly nodded and turned upon the spot. Harry glared at the back of Inari's head indignantly as her tied-back hair smacked against him lightly.

Harry followed suit and began to help clearing up the Library, starting with the mat on the floor and eventually the tables, chairs and lounges.

"You didn't move this stuff by yourself, did you?" Harry asked through a grunt as he moved his favorite seat back into position by himself, painstakingly moving it a few centimeters each time.

Inari shrugged her shoulders lightly and smiled impishly at Harry from her place on the floor. "I asked some of the servants to help me move the stuff out of the way."

Harry suddenly stopped shifting his seat and stood up straight. "Why the hell do your dancing crap in here when you could easily do it in your room?" he asked flatly.

Inari shrugged her shoulders again and glanced away from Harry. "I usually do that…but recently I've wanted to do some of the dancing in here…so I asked them to help me make room today and... They were only too happy to help really," the black-haired girl explained with a whimsical smile.

Harry stared at Inari for a few moments longer before he shook his head and chuckled.

"Course they were," he murmured under his breath as he gave a final heave and shifted the heavy piece of furniture back. "You know, you could help," Harry stated flatly as he slouched down against the seat in front of him.

Inari's eyebrows almost met her hairline.

"You are aware I'm a girl, right?" she asked slowly, crinkling her nose in distaste. "I don't have muscles like you do, I couldn't even lift that seat, it weighs a ton." She slipped her legs out from under her and briefly stood up before she plopped down onto the cushioned chair and curled her legs back under her. "Thanks," Inari said as she turned her head to Harry and gave a bright smile. She leaned forwards and pecked him on the cheek lightly.

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh and straightened up. He walked over to the group of wooden and thankfully light chairs which were scattered around the main table of the library, and dragged one over to Inari. He placed it in front of her and sat down in it, facing the young black-haired girl.

Inari blinked in surprise. "What are you doing?" she asked with a perplexed expression on her face.

"Remember you said you'd let me try something on you," Harry pointed out with a calm expression on his face.

Inari puffed out her cheeks childishly but nodded. "Right, what do you want to do?" she asked as she leaned forwards curiously.

"Just a little test of something," Harry assured Inari with an open smile before it was replaced with a serious expression. "Keep your eyes focused on my eyes and don't look away unless I tell you to, alright?"

Inari's eyes became squinted for a moment before without warning she broke out into a violent bout of laughter. "Y-your expression!" she managed to get out through her laughing.

Harry reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose. Suddenly this didn't seem like a very good idea.

"Go on," Inari said, suddenly becoming somber.

"Just keep your eyes on mine and don't look anywhere else, alright?" Harry grumbled out, resisting the urge to stand up and walk out.

"Alright." Inari nodded before sitting up straight in front of Harry and focusing on his eyes.

Harry straightened up and made eye contact with Inari. He supposed it was a good thing that he was taller than her, her head was slightly craned up and didn't even take notice as his hand slid down over his pocket. He inhaled deeply and then let the breath go, along with a soft murmur.

"_Legilimens_," he whispered out as he stared into the shimmering blue of Inari's eyes.

Something brushed across the front of his mind but after a moment it was gone. He tried to catch it but it slipped away. It was hard to stay focused on Inari's eyes and the thoughts at the same time. The more he focused on one the easier it was to lose the other. It didn't help that he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable staring into Inari's curious eyes.

He tore his gaze away from hers and began to blink rapidly.

"You wanted to have a staring contest?" Inari asked flatly.

"Shut up," Harry grumbled as he leaned back against the chair he was sitting on. He blinked and stared at Inari for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "Why are you the one sitting in my seat?" he demanded to know. "I was the one who did all the work!"

Inari pouted and leaned back into the chair. "It's comfortable!" She smiled challengingly. "Wanna fight for it?" she teased.

Harry opened his mouth to retort but no sound came out. A groan escaped Harry as he recalled _who_ he had been searching in the first place, before he had been distracted by his charge. He mumbled "Sorry, got to go." and abruptly stood up before walking towards the library doors.

"Wait—Harry!" Inari called out, sitting up straight. "What's wrong?" she asked in a concerned voice.

For a moment Harry considered ignoring her but decided against it.

"I was looking for Beatrice when I got distracted by you," he explained before shaking his head. "I have to go and apologize to her for missing her picnic."

Inari made a small 'o' with her mouth and a guilty look crossed over her face. "Wait!" she called out again as Harry turned to leave the Library.

"What?" Harry asked in exasperation.

Inari fidgeted under Harry's gaze for a moment. "I'm sorry for keeping you," she murmured hesitantly. "But, Beatrice is the maid who has today off, right? The one I told to prepare the stuff yesterday when you went to the kitchens? I saw her down in the gardens a few times today, at midday and at four this afternoon… I think she's been waiting in the gardens all day."

Harry stared back at Inari silently as a wave of guilt washed over him.

"Thanks," he mumbled before turning away and leaving the library.

As soon as Harry was out of sight of the library he broke out into a jog. In less than a minute he was on the ground floor and already halfway out the door to the back gardens. His eyes scanned the gardens for a sign of Beatrice but they found nothing at first glance. He wondered if Beatrice could have gone inside already, if she had gotten sick of waiting. But then his eyes came across a flicker of light blue in the far east garden. For a moment Harry wasn't sure it was Beatrice, and after that moment he decided he didn't care as he began to jog again.

Beatrice sat in the middle of a small self-contained garden just off of the forest. The edges were lined with wilting flowers which looked as if they had been purple in full bloom. Harry stopped jogging and began to walk at a calm pace. Beatrice wasn't facing the mansion; she was facing the forest. She was sitting down on a patchwork quilt.

As Harry got closer the sound of his footsteps caused Beatrice to turn her head. At first she had a blank look in her eyes, but as soon as she recognized him it faded into warmth and along with it came a smile.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Beatrice brought her finger up to her lips, and the apology on his lips fell silent. Beatrice patted the ground beside her. Harry closed the gap between himself and the quilt and sat down next to her.

Beatrice turned to the picnic basket beside her and a moment later back to Harry with something in her hands.

She smiled as she held an apple out to Harry.

Harry couldn't help but smile back as he reached for it.


	6. World without Sin

**So, long time no sexual harassment, eh? This was posted on Patronus Charm a while ago, so I thought it's about time I posted it on , even if my _belove__d_ beta Tinn decided to not beta, because _apparently _her life is more important than my fiction. The nerve of some people. Hmph.**

**Anyway, Enjoy**

**Jon**

* * *

As Harry began to wake up he became aware of a soft rustling sound in the room. He blearily opened up his eyes and blinked a few times. He could barely make out anything in the room; outside the window the sky was still dark and overcast.

He heard the rustling sound again; warily he turned his head and glanced towards the source. He caught the silhouette of something. It took him a few moments to recognize the shape. Harry suddenly felt alert as a rush of adrenaline went through his body. He slowly reached for his wand which was lying upon the dresser beside his bed only to freeze as the figure stopped moving. He dropped his head back down onto his pillow and ever so slowly continued to reach towards his wand.

He suddenly felt like cursing the overly large bed that he had previously been ecstatic to call 'his own'. It would have been so much easier if it was the small single bed that the Dursleys had given him. Instead he found himself overstretching to reach his wand without alerting the intruder in his room.

Whatever attempts he would have made to reach his wand suddenly fell through as the bed shifted. Harry tried to keep himself from tensing and his breath steady even as the he could feel the persons breath flow over his face. Harry braced himself and without a single sign lunged towards his wand.

A soft hand wrapped around his arm and pinned it against the bed, and a second found its way to his opposite shoulder. Instantly a struggle began and Harry soon found that the person a top of him was much stronger then he would have guessed; he struggled to no avail, until suddenly the person's arms gave way. With a vicious jerk Harry rolled his assailant over and straddled them, bringing his fist up.

A pair of arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down without warning. A pair of lips mashed against his and latched on without a second thought. Harry's fist was forgotten as he recognized the pair of lips assaulting him. Despite himself Harry found himself kissing back, and after a few moments managed pull away.

"Lara what the hell?!" Harry demanded as he pressed his hands against the woman's shoulders and held her at arm's length.

"What?" Harry heard Lara's nonchalant voice. "Why'd you stop?" she asked airily, slowly sliding her hands down off from behind Harry's neck and onto his shoulders. Harry glared down at the shadowed figure beneath him and reached over to the dresser.

As soon as he brought the wand into his grip a gentle light flared to life at the tip bathing the immediate area in a soft white glow. Below Harry Lara's disappointed look became prominent, along with the tussled mess that her hair had become during the impromptu wrestling match. Lara raised an eyebrow in challenge and shifted her hips beneath Harry, drawing Harry's attention to the less than modest position he had her in. An amused smile broke out on the woman's face as Harry promptly shifted his hips off of hers.

"What the hell were you doing Lara?" Harry managed to ask in a semi-calm tone as he stared down at the expression of mock innocence upon the Raith's face.

Lara gave a light shrug of her shoulders and glanced away from Harry's eyes. "I was just making sure you got the set of books I wanted you to," she answered casually before glancing back to Harry and smiling in a pleased way. "Though, this is much better then what I had in mind," she added on.

Harry gave an aggravated sigh and leaned backwards off of Lara and sat down as Lara withdrew her legs from under him. Lara crossed her legs and sat up properly. "I see that you did do as I requested," she ackowledged calmly.

The black haired wizard gave a light nod before reaching up and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" he asked as he lowered his wand to his side.

"Quarter to five," Lara offered as she folded her hands in her lap.

Harry took a moment to nod. "And it couldn't wait for a few hours?" he asked, and after a moment yawned. He absently noted that Lara was wearing the same outfit she had a week prior when she and Inari had taken him on a 'quick' tour of the grounds.

"Though," she began to say coolly, "I can't seem to find something, I was looking through your bags and all I could find were books." She titled her head to the side, smiling in a bemused fashion. "Are one of them mine?"

Harry stared at Lara in disbelief.. "You ransacked my room at this ungodly hour… to find your present?"

Lara gave a serious nod. "And I can't find it" she stated calmly before frowning. "It causes me to wonder if you did as I requested and brought me a gift from your shopping trip." Lara's eyes took on a cool, almost metallic glint.

Harry grinned. "And if I forgot to?"

Lara's frown deepened, before it slowly curved up into a coy smile. She idly reached forwards and touched upon Harry's cheek, before idly trailing it down across his neck and resting it upon his throat. "I will be… disappointed." She admitted.

Harry felt a shudder run through him as a familiar magically induced feeling struck him. It was little more than a trickle in his chest but it brought a brief flush of cold as a vivid memory came to the front of his mind.

"And I will be forced to amend some of my promises to account for this... breach of trust between you and I." Lara smiled pleasantly as she spoke and dropped her finger from Harry's throat.

"It's in your room," Harry managed to say in a small voice as the feelings which had been elicited suddenly faded away. Harry had found himself subconsciously leaning forwards, and without a care for decorum jerked himself backwards away from Lara.

"It's in your god damn room," he repeated a little louder as he stared at Lara warily. He had managed to almost completely forget what both she and Inari actually were over the time he had spent with them, and what dangers they posed. A shudder ran through him even as Lara gifted him with a happy smile.

"Was that so hard?" Lara teased lightly as she slowly slid her legs off of Harry's bed, she paused for a moment and turned back to Harry. "Though I did not notice anything in my bedroom when I checked it, would you tell me where you hid it?" she inquired lightly.

"I hid it under a charm," Harry explained stubbornly keeping his eyes away from Lara. "It's on the balcony, you should be able to see it now you know where it is."

"Really?" Lara asked with a small air of interest as she stood up and idly smoothed out the negligee she wore. "Would you escort me to my room Harry, and perhaps explain this.. spell would it be? To me and tell me what took you so long to return?" Lara's tone left little room for arguing as she walked towards the door and glanced backwards over her shoulder at Harry.

"If you'd like," Harry stated calmly, despite his bodies protests he stood up from his bed and slowly walked around to the door side. His wand felt warm in his hand, he absently extinguished the light at the tip as Lara opened the door and flooded the room with the dull light of the low yielding lights littering the corridors.

The two mismatched pair walked silently through the hallways, Harry slightly behind Lara. The silence was only broken by the fall of their feet touching the ground. Harry found himself on edge. So much so that his wand was still clutched in his hand, the wooden grain of the magical item served to relax him slightly with its reassurance of protection.

"What's wrong Harry?" Lara asked softly as she slowed down and touched lightly upon Harry's shoulder.

"Nothing," Harry denied calmly

Lara smiled reassuringly before she dropped her hand from Harry's shoulder and snaked it around his arm. "I wasn't serious about before," she offered soothingly she rested her head upon Harry's shoulder.

Harry resisted the urge to yank his arm free and put distance between them. He felt Lara's lips switch lightly.

"What happened between you and Inari in the library last night?" Lara asked curiously. "One moment you were cleaning up the horrid mess she had the servants make, and then you were sitting in front of each other…" Lara trailed off in amusement.

"I was just testing something." Harry mumbled derisively, briefly wondering how Lara knew.

Lara suddenly stopped walking, forcing Harry to stop as well. She turned to him and looked him directly in the eye, her normally cool gaze tinted with a serious glint. "When you say testing, you don't mean your... magic, do you?" she asked calmly, though the grip she had on his arm had tightened slightly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Not anything she would notice."

Lara continued to stare him directly in the eye. It was slowly beginning to unnerve him. Finally after what seemed like minutes her gaze softened and she smiled again. "Alright." She said softly before beginning to walk again.

"What about what Thomas sent you to do?" She asked with disinterest. "Is that what caused you to come home so late?"

"He asked me to deliver a letter for him, and I ended up helping him clean up some fungus that was bothering a friend." Harry offered the half-truth coolly. He turned his head and glanced across at Lara's face. "Are you having someone spy on me or something?"

"I am," Lara agreed with an amused twinkle in her eye. "I can't have my pet project getting in trouble can I?" she teased.

Though Harry felt offended at being called a 'pet project', he couldn't help but smile back.

"Before, you mentioned something," Lara began to ask with interest, "About a charm that you hid my present with?"

"A Notice-me-not," Harry explained as they stepped out of the corridor and into the open area of the stairwells.

"It stops people from taking notice of what it's cast on?" Lara mused out loud, before glancing at Harry for confirmation, which she received moments later. "That sounds like it could be very useful."

"It is," Harry agreed absently.

For the rest of the way they didn't talk much, though, Lara of her own volition explained what she had been doing for the day. Though Harry didn't feel like listening to the details for her upcoming film he kept himself silent, before a brief memory was recalled from the previous morning.

"Inari said you were getting her a job there?"

Lara for a split second actually looked surprised.

"As a stage hand yes." She tilted her head to the side, "She told you about that?"

Harry nodded with a slight grin.

"Imagine that," Lara murmured to herself before gifting Harry with a smile.

She detached herself from Harry as they came within sight of her bedroom door. She walked on ahead and summarily unlocked a door with a key that somehow found its way to her hand, Harry found himself briefly wondering where she had hidden it. He didn't have too much time to ponder the thought as the door opened and a light breath flooded the hallway.

"Do you ever get sick of that?" Harry asked as he followed Lara into the dimly lit room.

His question went unanswered as Lara made a beeline towards her dresser where the mirror laid, a clash with the other items surrounding it.

Lara picked it up and held it up to inspect, she did so silently ever so slightly turning the mirror around and allowing the meager light of the door to catch on the surface. "This is... quite an antique of a mirror," Lara murmured slowly. "A nice design," she added as an afterthought.

Lara glanced back to Harry for the first time since entering the room. "What does it do?" she asked before turning her attention back to the handheld foeglass and tracing her fingertips over the detail of the frame.

"It's called a Foe glass," Harry explained. "It shows you your enemies, the clearer they are the closer they are to you." Harry grinned to himself. "To paraphrase a Professor I had 'I don't need to worry about them until I can see the whites of their eyes."

Lara stared at Harry silently for a few moments, as she had become accustomed to since she had woken him up, before an amused sigh escaped her lips and she carefully placed the Foe Glass back down on her dresser. "You really have the strangest idea of what to get a girl for a present," Lara remarked as she turned fully towards Harry and placed her hands on her hips.

"The thought was nice, I suppose, it might even be handy." Lara walked forwards to Harry as she spoke. "But what good, is a Mirror if I can't see myself in it?" She asked with a taunt in her voice.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I saw it and thought of you?" He offered lamely.

Lara continued to smile bemusedly. "Yes, that is all good and well, but you didn't answer my question."

Lara reached up and prodded Harry on the chest lightly. "Curious thing, I saw quite a few people on the mirrors surface, curiously enough I could not find you on it." Lara's lips were quirked up in a pleased smile.

"Take it as you want," Harry offered back before he turned away from Lara, just able to hide the amusement he felt from his face before he turned away.

Harry felt a pair of arms ensnare themselves around his waist and soon after the rest of Lara press itself against his back. "Thank you for the gift," Lara murmured into the back of his neck.

"You told me to get you one," Harry pointed out mildly.

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Lara murmured to herself before letting go and stepping back. "Go back to bed, Harry."

"Plan to," Harry answered right back as he walked out of the room.

"You'd better," Lara called back.

No more sound came from Lara's room as Harry walked away besides the soft click of the door closing.

As Harry walked back to his room his thoughts inevitably turned to the rest of his purchases. A part of him was itching to read some of the books he had picked out for himself, some of them promised to be worth reading '1001 Things you can't do with a smile' was particularly interesting.

Inevitably Harry's mind turned to the purple bag in his room and the satchels of lollies that were inside it, and the young Raith that would no doubt demand her share. Harry quickly decided that the best course of action would be to give Inari hers before she pulled a leaf out of Lara's book and decided to raid his room.

The moment Harry reached his bedroom he pushed the door open and flicked on the lightswitch.

Instantly the room was bathed in a bright light and Harry had to blink a few times before his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness compared to the hallways. Harry picked up the purple bag beside his bed and quickly began to rummage through it searching for a specific satchel. Harry picked out a few choice Muggle lollies and soon enough had a small pile on the bed.

Harry dumped the books he had also purchased the day before out of the brown paper wrapping and a second later tapped his wand against it and watched it quickly fold into a small carton. Harry grabbed a handful of the lollies and dumped them inside of the container, and repeated until it was full and only a few were left on the bed.

Harry popped the breath freshened into his mouth and chewed a few times. A small cough escaped him as the small blue ball suddenly melted and slipped down his throat. A few seconds later the sensation vanished and the strong taste of blueberries rose up from the back of his throat.

Harry stared down the small package of sweets he had made warily. If the rest of the 'Muggle Style' were anywhere near as 'normal' as the refresher it might be a problem. Harry hesitated for a second before shrugging the caution away.

Harry flipped the top of the carton closed, put the pile of books back into a bag and shifted the slipped his wand into his pocket and walked out of his room, flipping the light switch and closing the door behind him. It couldn't have been more than an hour since Lara interrupted his sleep. He could drop the package in Inari's room and be gone before she got up, Harry reasoned. It took Harry a few moments to recall the direction of Inari's room, half due to sleep and half due to the limited amount of times he had been there.

Harry took to wandering in the general direction of the way he knew it to be. As always Harry's eyes inevitably turned to the paintings and sculptures that litters the hallways. Harry wasn't entirely sure but he could have sworn he recognized some of the paintings, and it wasn't in a directional sense. He was fairly sure that some he had seen in the magazines that had been stacked on the Dursleys coffee table for when polite company was over.

Harry hesitated a moment, his eyes lingering on a particularly well done painting of a half naked woman before continuing on. After a few dozen wrong doors Harry finally found the one he was looking for. Harry rapped his knuckle against the doorframe a few times and waited. Harry didn't wait long, he didn't expect Inari to be awake, or for the noise to wake her. Harry placed the brown box on the ground in front of the door and turned away. After a few steps Harry stopped and looked back to the package. A frown appeared on his face for a moment before he stepped back and put it in a better position.

Nodding to himself Harry turned away and began to walk back the way he had come, carefully taking note of the paintings along the way back.

After a while of meandering through the hallways Harry found himself whistling a tune, which most likely was out of tune, but with no one to point it out he continued whistling, his eyes flicking past painting by painting.

Certain hallways were constantly lit by the warm glow of ever lit lights. Alternatively some corridors and rooms were lit by natural light, or the artificial ones depending on what time it was. It was getting to the point where the sun was beginning to rise into morning glory and the lights inside the house, on those rooms, corridors and staircases were beginning to slowly fade to darkness, allowing the natural sunlight to slowly filter in and light the room by itself.

Harry found himself traversing one such hallway when on the right side a door clicked and swung inwards and open. It took Harry a moment to acknowledge where he was before a familiar grey eyed and black haired six foot figured stuck his head out from inside the room. His shirt was undone and his feet lacked shoes. Thankfully he retained his pants.

It took them a second or so to make eye contact with harry, and not a moment later a bright hundred watt smile flooded the room with reflections of white.

"Harry!" Thomas greeted with a relieved. "Just the man I wanted to see. Would you mind keeping Justine Company while I go get her something for her fever?"

Harry stared at Thomas for a moment, stunned. Before answering, "Yeah, I guess." He said awkwardly as he stopped in front of Thomas' door.

Thomas peeked his head back in for a moment before stepping out fully past Harry and nudging him towards the entrance. "Don't mind her if she spouts something weird," Thomas said under his breath to Harry before nodding to him and leaving the way Harry had come.

Harry glanced after Thomas before turning back to the door and after a moment of hesitation stepped inside.

A dim glow lit Thomas' room. The normally white paint had been shaded a dull orange hue. Clothes laid strewn across the floor, the bed and the furniture that lined the walls. A black sock laid here, a white one there and a white dress draped over a chair. If Harry was not mistaken, there was a red thong by the side of the bed. He hoped was Justine's.

The bed itself was amiss under a mass of doonas and sheets, most of which were forming a sort of cocoon around the centre of the bed.

"Morning Harry," a quiet, soft, gentle and weak voice whispered from under the pile of covers on the bed. Justine's head was just above the line of the covers. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair mussed from sleep.

"Hey," Harry greeted quietly as he stepped up to the side of the bed, and after a moment of looking around for a seat, he decided to remain standing.

Justine went to giggle, but was cut off by a wince. She smiled up at Harry and shifted an arm out from under the covers to pat the side of the bed. "Sit down, I won't bite." She promised.

Harry smiled amused, before sitting down at the edge of the bed.

Justine frowned and reached over to Harry, grasping him by the arm and pulling him closer to her.

Harry let out a small laugh and allowed the woman to do so. His laughter trailed off as his eyes caught a glimpse of the soft curve of Justine's breast. He averted his eyes quickly with a look of embarrassment upon his face and uttered an apology.

Justine laughed again, giving Harry unabashed look. She nudged him. "Grow up," she chided before, with a devilish look, she rolled over and hooked an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Attempting to at the very least, Harry remained steadfast in his position despite the insistence on her part.

"Please?" she pleaded softly.

Harry felt his resolve crumbling even as she continued to tug on his waist. He moved closer to Justine and allowed her to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nuzzled against his hip for a moment before resting. A sigh of content escaped her lips.

"It's so cold without Thomas." Justine said after a few minutes of awkward silence. "You're a good substitute," she informed Harry through a murmur.

"Thanks," Harry said awkwardly after a moment.

"Put your arm around me."

"What?"

"Wrap your arm around me and keep me warm." Justine said quietly.

Harry shifted an arm and hugged it around Justine.

A whisper of 'thank you' met his ears, and Harry could not help but smile ever so lightly. "No worries," he said. "It's a sick person's obligation to be selfish."

Justine shook against Harry as a light laugh rocked her body. Her grip on harry tightened ever so slightly, and as her body stopped shaking it loosened. "What time is it?" she asked, turned her head to look up at Harry.

"Around five," Harry answered after a few seconds.

"You should still be asleep." She said in an accusing tone.

"Lara woke me up."

"Oh," Justine trailed off into silence. "You can sleep here," she offered before hesitating and continuing. "Until Thomas gets back, then you have to go."

Harry almost snorted; he managed to nod instead.

The rise and fall of the sheets began to slow down, and Justine's grip on him slowly loosened. Eventually he heard the soft whine of breathing through a blocked nose. A glance down at Justine saw a peaceful expression marred only by occasional flashes of discomfort.

Once Harry was sure that Justine was asleep, he began to disentangle himself from her arms. Just as Harry was about to slide off of the bed Justine's arms wrapped around him again and pulled him closer with strength he hadn't seen her demonstrate while she had been awake.

The act caused Harry to over balance and he only just managed to stop from falling on top of Justine. His hand had fallen perilously close to her when he had reached out to steady himself. A grimace found it's way onto Harry's face and he slowly began to repeat the process. This time, instead of simply allowing her arms to trailed off him as he slipped off of the large bed he tucked them into the mass of sheets. His eyes caught a flash of pale smooth skin as he did so, he pointedly managed to avoid prolonged stares as he continued in his effort to slip off of the bed.

"She's pretty to look at, isn't she?" a deep, familiar voice said from the doorway.

Harry startled and snapped his head around to the door, jumping off the bed at the same time.

Thomas' thousand-watt grin met Harry's look of surprise.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind letting you see more," Thomas offered. At Harry's disturbed look, he waved his hand and laughed it off. "I'm kidding, unless you're interested that is."

"I'm not," Harry informed Thomas stiffly.

Thomas acknowledged the reply with a pleasant smile. "That's one of the reasons I offered." He went on to explain. "I wouldn't have made the offer if I had thought that you'd accept."

"What's the point of offering then?"

"Amusement."

Harry didn't say anything as he walked past Thomas.

A firm hand gripped Harry by the shoulder as he went to pass. "Actually, I have something to ask of you, if you don't mind."

"And If I do?" Harry asked coolly as he turned back to Thomas.

"I'd prefer you listen at any rate."

Harry frowned. "Go on."

Thomas smiled briefly. "There is a party tonight that I'm supposed to go to. Justine isn't well, so I was wondering if you'd like to come." At Harry's perplexed look he continued quickly. "Nothing serious, just a party, wine, women, food. My father is a bit busy and has decided at the last minute that I am going in his place."

"And that means what?" Harry asked slowly.

Thomas smiled unabashed. "Red Court, I had a hand in killing the host a few years back."

Harry grimaced. "And there's the catch." He muttered, "Can't you just take a rain check?"

Thomas actually laughed. "If I wanted an even bigger bullseye painted on my back, of course I could."

"Why should I go?" Harry asked quietly.

Thomas regraded Harry for a moment in silence. Harry could see the gears turn in his head. And then, it stopped and Thomas smiled weakly. "I'm not asking you as Thomas Raith, I'm asking you as one person to another."

Harry stared Thomas in the eye for a minute in complete silence. "They're the bat ones right?"

Thomas nodded slowly.

Harry sighed. "Watch out for Saliva and don't make batman jokes, right?"

The Raith scion let out a chuckle of amusement, but quickly fell silent as sounds of discomfort stirred from behind Harry.

Thomas once again smiled genuinely. "Thank you," he said. "I really do appreciate this."

"You can thank me after the place gets burned down," Harry joked.

"They'll probably expect that this time," Thomas replied mildly.

Harry nodded before letting out a yawn and waving Thomas off. "Going back to bed, wake me when you need me."

Thomas' pearly whites flashed in gratitude. "Don't worry, I won't come get you until we have to leave for New York." He pauses for a moment and considered Harry, his eyes briefly raking down his body. "You don't have anything against white suits, do you?" He quickly dismissed the ensuing reply. "Never mind, it'll have to do. I'm sure Lara has had you stripped and measured for a suit by now at any rate."

Harry stared at Thomas.

An apologetic grin met his stare.

Harry shook his head and turned away from the dark haired Incubus. "Good Bye, Thomas."

"I'll see you later, Harry."

Harry's body was on autopilot as he walked back to his room. His feet knew the way back, even if his body was on automatic for the moment.

He ran across a few servants as he walked, men, women, most diligently going about their tasks. Some had a faraway look in their eye, a wistful glint or an absent spark. It was not too difficult to come to understand what had happened to them. Coming to terms with it however, was another matter altogether.

One such man was standing in front of a painting of a woman in a white dress. He was dusting the painting down. From the worn look of the spot he was dusting, he had been at it for a while, which was odd, considering he had not seen the man on the way with Lara. Harry made it a point to give the man a wide berth as he passed him.

Aside from the servants, the trek back to his quarters was largely uneventful. There had been a slight hope present with harry that he would come across Beatrice, but he did not.

The room was exactly as he had left it, the door was slightly ajar, and the inside was bathed in a weak glow from the slithers of light that managed to peak in through the blinds. Harry slipped side, and flicked on the lights. He briefly glanced around before flicking the light-switch back off and walking forwards. His brief glimpse of the illuminated room allowed him to manoeuvre himself to the bed.

Harry collapsed on his bed with little regard for his clothes and rolled over onto his back. He let out a long-winded breath and shut his eyes. As an afterthought, he took his glasses off and set them beside him on the bed. It did not take long for Harry to begin to drift off to sleep.

Neither did it take long for the door to creep open again with a low creaking sound. Harry could not bring himself to open his eyes to see who it was. It definitely was not a servant. They would have knocked.

All of a sudden, Harry's thoughts abruptly halted as the sudden sound of quick movement broke his thought and caused him to open his eyes. An impact against his chest and sides caused Harry to gasp as the air in his lungs escaped him. The attempt had foiled as soon as it began, as a pair of lips clumsily mashed against his and a pair of hands deftly gripped him by the shirt.

Stunned Harry found himself unable to think for a few precious moments, which his assailant used to explore his mouth with a tongue, a tongue that tasted like... strawberries'.

Harry's mind quickly rebooted and he reached up and grasped the person by the shoulders. He hadn't needed to. A moment later without his help his lips found themselves free and the weight on his chest shifted onto his lower body as they sat up.

Harry found himself staring up into the bright and bubbly face of Inari, who met his gaze with a dimpled smile. "Good morning, Harry," Inari greeted happily. Her tongue poked out and ran over her lips quickly, her smile widened.

Harry was not entirely sure what the appropriate response was for the situation. Had it been Lara he would not have had a problem looking. Lara seemed to expect it. Inari was not the same as Lara, not yet, and he hoped she never would be.

But as it was the late teen was sitting on top of him, clad in an almost translucent silk camisole of white silk, and skin type shorts of the same material. Harry purposely averted his eyes from his charges body and focused on her eyes. That seemed to be what she had been waiting for, as soon as they made eye contact she started talking.

"You were the one who got me the lollies right-In the brown box outside my door. I almost missed them but I'm so glad I didn't! I've only tried one but it was so delicious, but you know that already, don't you? It's called a Strawberry Kiss, the wrapper said to eat it, wait a few seconds and then kiss someone, so I came as fast as I could!" She paused for a moment and considered Harry for a moment. "You don't mind, do you? Because I really couldn't kiss anyone else, I mean it'd be wrong to kiss Lara, or Thomas, or Justine, you know? And kissing the servants would just be weird, so that just left you. I don't mean like you're the last person I'd kiss, I like you a lot!" she finished quickly, before leaning down and kissing Harry on the cheek quickly.

"I..." Harry began to say, "What?" He blinked in confusion before shaking his head. "You're welcome, for the sweet's that is."

Inari nodded happily. "I knew it was you. No one else would have gotten me them because they're bad for the teeth." She grinned, showing off her pearly whites.

Harry rolled his tongue around in his mouth. "You and Lara really are sisters," he said after a moment, without thinking.

Inari blinked her long dark lashes and tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?" she asked with an unsure smile. A look of mortification slowly began to appear on Inari's face. "You mean her and you already-?"

Mortification soon turned to annoyance and indignation. "Why'd you let me kiss you if you and Lara are already-" she cut herself off angrily and glared down at Harry and thumped her fist on his chest.

Harry took the chance to defend himself. "It's not like you really let me have a say in it," Harry protested. He winced as Inari's fist thumped against his ribs again. "Stop that!" Harry's hands darted forwards and caught Inari's arms by the wrist. "You jumped on me the second you got in the room, didn't you?" Harry pointed out calmly, holding Inari's wrists tight as she struggled.

Inari stopped struggling and glowered at Harry. "Don't be so logical, you robot.

"And Lara and I haven't done anything," Harry said slowly. "What I mean was that she jumped me the same way you did an hour ago, looking for her gift." At this Inari's look became sullen. Harry let go off Inari's wrists, to his relief the young woman did not resume playing his ribs like a xylophone.

Inari set her hands on her legs, aside Harry and pouted. "Now I look stupid, why couldn't you have just said that from the start?"

"Because you didn't give me a chance to explain?" Harry asked slowly.

A yelp escaped him as Inari thumped his chest one last time. "Robot."

Inari cracked a smile and shrugged her shoulders, flicking her hair off her face. Mercury eyes stared down at Harry, with a calculating look he had yet to see in them. "If you could have stopped me from kissing you, would you?" she asked innocently, or as innocently as she could with such a look in her eyes.

Harry blinked. "What?"

A coy smile appeared on Inari's lips and she dug her knees into Harry's sides, causing him to give off a short laugh. "Quit it," he protested.

"Answer then!"

"What kind of question is that?" Harry said defensively.

"It's a question from a young maiden's heart!" Inari answered triumphantly, folding her arms across her chest.

Harry stopped himself from immediately replying and looked into Inari's face. Beyond the bravado, beyond the exaggerated actions, he could see something. Call it insecurity, a weakness of character. It existed in Inari. To constantly be comparing herself to her family and constantly finding herself lacking.

Inari was by no means an ugly girl. She was pretty, far more pretty than any of the girls back at Hogwarts had been. Such was the effort of the Raith family. All the Raith were physically attractive. How could Harry reassure her? That one day, if her father had his way he would be just as unearthly in beauty as her sister Lara, if not more so?

It was insightful beyond what Harry had seen.

"I wouldn't stop you," Harry said quietly and firmly, as he met Inari's gaze. "I enjoyed it, very much."

At Harry's words, Inari coloured and averted her gaze. "Jeez, don't be so serious," she protested and leaned forwards, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck and hugging herself to him.

Harry considered pointing out that the position she had placed herself in, over him, was suggestive, but managed to hold back. He took the easy route out, and brought his arms up and around the slightly smaller girl, hugging her loosely.

* * *

Harry watched impassively as the crowd mingled in front of him. Beside him Thomas was idly eyeing a group of red-dressed women congregating by one of the larger buffet tables. A look of disdain was burned into his eyes. Harry took a moment to glance around. More than half of the people attending were wearing red, over a quarter were wearing black, and the rest were wearing a variety of outfits ranging from suits to ball gowns to t shirt and shorts.

Harry stared at the old man wearing the later and held back a grimace at sickly amount of skin hanging off his bones. He forced himself to look away, at much more pleasing sights, like the group of women that Thomas had been eyeing before. He caught the eye of a sunny haired member of the group and received a demure smile and a flutter of eyelashes.

"Good thing you didn't go with the red tie," Thomas murmured under his breath. "The people tagged with red are the red courts thralls; they're basically walking, talking food for the Red Court." He paused for a moment, taking a quick glance around. "The people wearing red are Red Court, pretty obvious. You know the saying 'Even the pretty rose has thorns'? In this case even the most normal looking one of them is still a vampire."

"Whatever you do, don't let them kiss you, don't eat anything or drink anything," a ghost of a memory passed over his face, "The last party I was invited to they put their saliva into the wine under pretense of recreational drugging, almost killed a friend of mine."

Thomas breathed out through his nose and smiled. "If you'll excuse me Harry, I have to mingle." He gestured towards a lone black dressed woman sitting alone at a table off to the side.

Harry watched with mild annoyance as Thomas caught the woman's attention and moments later a smile graced her lips. Harry glanced back to the group of women standing by the buffet table and immediately caught the sunny haired woman's eye again. This time her brow rose slightly and she turned towards him with an open smile. The women around her seemed to pay little mind as one of their number walked off. One of them took a glance towards Harry before dismissing him straight away.

She was dressed in what amounted to a silk sheet draped over her body with a delicate thread of black lace tapering the edges, the material hung from her body in a way that didn't skimp on the skin. On second thoughts it wasn't really a sheet and more like a pillowcase, Harry mused.

"I couldn't help but noticing," the sunny haired woman said with the same smile as she approached Harry, a wine glass filled with a light pink liquid was cradled in her left hand loosely.

"Sorry about that, I'm not really used to this kind of thing," Harry smiled weakly as he made a small gesture towards the rest of the party.

"I know what you mean, I don't particularly like this kind of setting myself," the woman confessed as she stepped closer, "I prefer more personal settings," she reached out and touched Harry on the arm, her smile widening slightly.

"I'm Harry," Harry introduced himself with a strained smile. The woman was a few inches shorter than him and craned her head up to meet his eyes. A peculiar gleam shone in her black eyes. It probably didn't escape his notice that her cleavage was on display, it was probably the reason why she had chosen to move so close.

"Not Dresden of course?" the woman teased absently as she slowly leaned away. She held her left hand out to the left and pushed her drink upon a waiter without a second glance. She gestured to herself with a self gratified smile. "Marion," she introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, Marion."

"The pleasure is all mine," Marion continued to smile pleasantly before frowning. "I'm afraid that I do not recall a Harry on the guest list, are you one of the extras?"

"You could say that I suppose," Harry said slowly. "I'm more of a plus one." He pointed over to Thomas, who was busily enjoying himself upon the woman he had chosen to mingle with. "He's the guy I'm here with."

A look of pleasant surprise registered on Marion's face . "Are you and he?" she stared up into Harry's face with an alien expression on her face.

"No we-. " He was cut off as Marion reached up and held a single finger to his lips.

"It has always been a fantasy of mine.. to turn a gay man straight," she licked her lips sensuously.

"I'm not-"

"I can do everything, and anything to you," she whispered as she leaned closer, "Even things you see in porn."

Harry stared into Marion's eyes in surprise only to almost jump away as the whites of her eyes peeled away into a reflective black.

"I'm not gay," Harry shouted a bit louder then necessary, drawing a few looks from the people closest.

Marion frowned.

She blinked and the whites of her eyes returned with a, what Harry could now identify as a curious stare. "Is that so?"

Harry nodded sharply.

"That is unfortunate," she said more to herself than Harry before smiling again. "It matter not, a small detail, do you not agree?"

"It's a bit early," Harry pointed out calmly as he stared into Marion's eyes. "I'm supposed to mingle a bit more." The words felt foreign on his tongue.

Marion blinked in faux innocence, "Perhaps later on in this evening?

"If neither of us have anything better to do," Harry agreed, leaving out that having the bones in his arms removed and re-grown would be considered a better thing to do.

"I will be off then," Marion lifted her hand up between them with an expectant stare.

Harry stared at it for a few moments before catching on. He reached for Marion's hand and held it up as he leaned down to it. Her hand was cool to touch, he briefly brushed his lips over the top of her hand before stiffening as the soft dainty skin rippled under his lips. Harry managed to stop himself from jerking his head back and slowly straightened up.

Marion had a coy smile upon her lips as she inclined her head and turned back to the group of women who she had been talking with moments before.

Harry turned away, but not before glancing back to Marion one more time warily. She hadn't spared him a second glance; Harry felt a mix of relief and annoyance.

A quick glance across the room found Harry with the knowledge that Thomas had gotten onto even better terms with the woman he had picked out. A nagging feeling rose up in the back of Harrys' mind. He quickly put it aside and looked away.

The more Harry looked around the more he realized that everyone bar a few of the servants were gathered in groups from two to five. A few groups of five had mingled to become a group of ten. Harry was quickly beginning to feel out of place. Another glance to Thomas had him assure himself that out of place was better than being beside Thomas for the moment.

As Harry's eyes continued to wander he began to notice small things. Like the way that the people dressed in black had unfocused eyes and how they kept glancing towards the red-dressed with a beguiling expression.

The centre of attention was a woman.

She, like most of the other attendants was beautiful, inhumanely so along with a certain aristocrat air about her. Her hair was dark, dark enough to make Harry wonder if it were just black but under the light from the chandeliers a faint trace of colour was visible, it was tied back into a bun and a single curl of hair fell down the side of her face, her skin was light, almost pale. From where he was Harry couldn't catch a glimpse of her face.

Like half of the other guests she was adorned with red, her dress began a cut high above indecency and flowed down to a one sided veil that ended at her ankle, the back of it ended at her mid back leaving a healthy amount of skin exposed-the same shade as her arms.

'The host,' Harry assumed as he turned his gaze away.

Eventually Harry's eyes fell upon a man of indeterminate age. He was dressed in a charcoal black suit, easily distinguishable from the rest of the blacksuits. The man's eyes were an odd shade of green, deep and intense. His hair was a pepper and salt mix of black and dark grey. He held a cigarette between his lips, he blew a puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth but no one seemed to mind, the closest people to him were at least two meters away. He had a bored expression on his face.

After a few moments of pensive consideration Harry began to walk towards the man. The closer he got the easier it was for Harry to notice an irrefutable fact.

The cigarette wasn't lit.

Harry's step didn't falter as he continued walking towards the man, though it did as the man turned his head towards Harry and locked gazes with him. To his credit the falter didn't show beyond taking a bit longer on a step.

Harry smiled a brittle smile and raised his hand in a greeting wave.

"Hi, I'm Harry," Harry introduced himself as he stopped in front of the salt and pepper haired man.

The man inclined his head very slightly. "Greetings twig holder," a low rumble of a voice came from his throat. The man stilled himself for a moment before he exhaled a puff of smoke. "That's better," he remarked, his voice sounding a fair bit clearer.

"You're smoking," Harry remarked casually ignoring the alarm that blared in his mind

The man's lips peeled back in disdain, "Quite," he said tritely.

"No, I mean you're smoking." Harry repeated nodding his head at the man's cigarette.

The disdain shifted into a look of vague amusement. "Perceptive," the man acknowledged. "What is one of your kind doing outside your holes?"

"Pardon?" Harry said calmly.

"That is what your kind does it not, hideaway in secreted shadows?" The man's eyes bored into Harry.

"I suppose so," Harry admitted, "I was under the impression that you people were mostly in the dark about us."

"Do not take idle assumptions, do not conceive that I am the same as you mortals," the man's tone hadn't changed at all despite his words.

"Or what," Harry began sarcastically, "You'll complain to everyone else here about them not being as good as you?"

"I will scorch you from existence," the man answered coolly.

"Hail Lord Ferrovax, Sovereign of Blood and Fire." a cool and oddly inviting voice spoke from behind Harry. He held himself from looking back as the man in front of him inclined his head.

"Sidhe," the man, 'Ferrovax' greeted without visible interest.

A woman stepped up beside Harry. She had deep dark green hair, the colour of emeralds. Her face had a sweet angelic sort of girl-next-door look. She wore an elegant shawl of green silk over a fitting dress of the same material. Her perfume was heady, a scent reminiscent of the mist hovering over a still lake. Like the Great lake. A wave of nostalgia hit Harry, though it quickly evaporated as the woman turned to Harry and smiled.

Feline slits adorned her eyes.

Harry stared for a few moments before he caught himself and looked back at the man in front of him. Without meaning to Harry's gaze kept floating back to the woman, a subtle and simple urge to keep looking at her stayed with him. With some difficulty Harry managed to keep himself from making a fool out of himself and stayed silent.

"The Lady of Winter sends her well wishes and greetings," the woman continued to speak.

"You represent the Winter Lady?" Ferrovax asked with just about as much interest.

Harry tuned out the conversation as a recollection hit him.

Sidhe.

That was a familiar word.

May.

Lara said May was probably a Sidhe.

Harry took a moment to glance at the woman again.

May hadn't looked anything like her, or smelt anything like her for the matter nor had she had the intoxicating presence about her.

The woman turned back to Harry, she was speaking but Harry couldn't make out the words off her lips, her pale pink lips, that looked so kissable-The woman touched Harry on the arm and a jolt of electricity jumped through him, shocking him out of his stupor.

"Pardon?" Harry said with an apologetic look. His breathing was a bit quicker than it had been moments before.

She smiled. Her teeth were the colour of freshly steamed broccoli. "I inquired to who you were," the woman explained.

"Harry," Harry introduced himself with an embarrassed smile after a few moments.

"A pleasure to meet you Harry," she murmured extending her hand to Harry.

Harry took her hand. It was cool to touch. He hesitated a moment before bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of her hand. His lips lingered a bit longer than necessary on the cool smooth skin before parting.

"A proper gentlemen in a room full of inelegant beasts," she praised as she dropped her hand to her side. "Jen," she introduced herself.

"That's a nice name, is it short for anything?" Harry asked conversationally.

"What could it be short for?" Jen asked with an amused smile.

"Jenifer, Jenny… Jenna," Harry trailed off lamely.

"Jenny, I like that." She smiled her green-toothed smile.

Jen paused and turned to Ferrovax, "My apologies for ignoring you, Lord Ferrovax," she murmured in a demure fashion.

"Lord?" Harry blurted out, "I didn't know they had those in America." He glanced at Ferrovax with a peculiar look.

"Lord Ferrovax is such a being that commends a title of such respect," Jenny explained with a wistful smile.

"Such a being," Harry echoed, "What are you?" Harry directed his question at Ferrovax, swallowing his hesitation and the inkling of worry that had began to creep up his spine.

Jenny remained silent.

Ferrovax stared impassively into Harry's face, his eyes flickering out of time with the solid light in the room. Something began pushing at the back of Harry's eyes. He began to lose focus, and just as he was about to look away the world around him warped. It only occurred for a split second, and he couldn't have been sure it had actually happened. A single great eye. Huge, staring at him. The size of his entire body. An eye socket, scaled skin, heat, burning.

Harry grimaced and a hand flung up to his head, clutching his eyes.

"Different enough to see but not enough to bare the sight," Ferrovax spoke softly, his voice carrying on idle air. Harry didn't look up. "What did you see?" Ferrovax asked with what Harry assumed amount to wide eyed interest.

"What was that?" Harry demanded to know as he ripped his hand away from his head.

"A fraction of my true nature," Ferrovax explained tactfully.

"What is your true nature?" Harry forced himself to ask.

"I am-"

"You're a dragon," Harry interrupted slowly, his brow furrowed. "But that can't be right, I've seen dragons before you-"

"Degenerate Offspring, the result of bestiality," Ferrovax stated in disdain, "nothing more than the diminutive echoes of majesty so much grander."

"Ego much?" Harry muttered under his breath, he didn't really feel into it.

Ferrovax's cool gaze burned down into Harry with a cold indifference.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said through gritted teeth, "I think I'll go and get a drink if you don't mind."

The man-dragon, whatever the hell he was said nothing as Harry turned away. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Jenny staring at him with a blank, alien look on her face. A look that disturbed him, though, it still paled in comparison to that eye.

It took Harry a few moments to find Thomas, he was still in the same spot with the woman.

"Thomas," Harry greeted as he sat down opposite Thomas and the dark haired woman, he reached up and ran his knuckle over his forehead, wiping off a small trickle of sweat.

"Harry," Thomas smiled, "Meet…" he trailed off before smiling charmingly at the woman beside him and touching her on the arm. She shuddered and Harry got a good look at her eyes; they were glazed over in a high. "What was your name?"

"Kathleen," she murmured breathily, leaning into Thomas.

"Meet Kathleen," Thomas finished.

"Nice to meet you," Harry gave a brittle smile. "What would Justine say?" he remarked calmly, "She looks a bit like her, doesn't she?"

"Justine doesn't need to find out," Thomas replied before picking up an untouched drink off of the table and holding it out to Harry, "The food and drink aren't tainted," he gestured to Kathleen with the drink, "She was nice enough to taste test for me."

"Justine probably deserves to know about how her boyfriend decided to fuck the first thing that came along," Harry remarked coldly, ignoring the drink.

Thomas regarded Harry through calculating, grey eyes. "She is not my girlfriend," Thomas spoke calmly, keeping his voice steady, "She is food to me that's all."

"For being just food you sure seem to spend a lot of time around her," Harry said sarcastically.

"I like my food fresh," Thomas offered coolly.

Harry's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Look at it this way," Thomas went on to say, "You like Justine right?"

Harry nodded slowly, "She's a nice person... if a bit… odd."

"Would you prefer I feed on her?"

"Of course not," Harry said without hesitation.

"Then why not her?" he gestured to the woman next to him who perked up to attention.

Harry stared Thomas in the eye for a few seconds in silence before he shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever, not my business," he said as he after a moment of consideration took the drink from Thomas and sagged back against the seat.

Thomas smiled at the woman at his side and caressed her jaw bone. "You wouldn't happen to have a friend for my friend here would you?" He asked charmingly.

'Kathleen' shook her head and laid her hand on the Raith scion's thigh. "Just me, I'm afraid." She did sound afraid, like she was terrified to disappoint Thomas.

It was at this point that Harry purposely zoned out and ignored the two. As far as he was concerned, he had done his good deed for the day, and then some.

Thomas had not finished speaking, apparently. "In a few minutes, the hostess will call for attention and present the guests with gifts." He grimaced. "Nothing should happen if we're lucky. The Guests will go to the podium, accept a gift, and it'll be over."

As if qued the main lights in the ballroom dimmed and a spotlight cut through the lowly lit atmosphere and illuminated a stage at the back of the room. From where Thomas had chosen to sit, they had a good view. In the middle of the spotlight a woman stood.

Pale skin that looked to be as smooth as butter, high cheekbones and rose hued cheeks. A small nose, a pretty, pink mouth, the features came together to form a devastatingly beautiful package. Though, it wasn't just the look, no Lara had shown him that allure took more than that.

Many of the people around him were attractive; sure, some had looks in spades. However, they wore their looks like a shirt. The woman on the stage, she wore her beauty well. Dark locks of hair were pulled back into a bun and a single curl of hair framed her face to the right, passing just beside her eye.

She wore a black gown that looked to be a few decades out of fashion, that or it had come from France. Still, she wore it exceeding well. A blinding light suddenly struck Harry's eyes. It took all his will power to resist reacting towards it. The alarm quickly died down as he determined that Thomas had been the focus of the spotlight.

At some point the host had started talking, Harry had missed the exact moment when. It was probably before the spotlights had been activated.

"... so please, dear friends join me in welcoming our honoured guests in celebration of our moment of triumph."

She paused for applause.

"The Red Court would now like to take this opportunity to present our guests with gifts at this time," she said. "so that they may know how well we hold their good will in regard. So please, Miss Jen, would you please step forward and honour us by accepting a token of goodwill, on behalf of the Red King."

A spotlight shifted amongst the crowd, the sea of people and vampires parted, and a figure casually walked forwards. If the host having called her name had not been enough, the green hair and shimmering dress would have been more than enough to pick her out.

Harry watched as Jen ascended to the stage and casually threw a glance behind her. Green cat-like eyes met Harry's for a moment, before they turned away.

Jenny smiled at the vampire at the centre of the stage and inclined her head.

Black eyes shimmered and sparkled. "Though we stand at war's end, The Red Court wishes to extend friendship as we had on the eve of the current hostilities." A man in a black suit walked forwards from the back of the stage holding a velvet red cushion. Harry couldn't make out what sat upon it, but whatever it was apparently was enough to cause the Sidhe pause.

"Please accept this gift on behalf of the Winter Lady."

Jenny inclined her head and smiled sweetly. "A most precious gift," she murmured, "One which can be reciprocated with the gift of word." The green-toothed Sidhe moved closer to the host and leaned her head closer to the vampires ear. Neither of the two moved for seconds. Eventually Jenny leaned back and once again showed off her pearly greens.

The Sidhe waved her hand over the cushion that the servant held and whatever was on it disappeared.

A low applause rumbled through the auditorium as Jenny left the stage. Once again her eyes swept the crowds, and once again Feline slits made contact with Harry's gaze. Harry averted his gaze back to the stage, but not before, he caught sight of a pleased look from the Sidhe.

It made him feel uncomfortable, the woman's stare. It had not when he had first met her, and as far as he was aware, know had changed.

"Mister Ferro, honoured guest, and dutiful ally. Would you please approach and received your gift."

A second spotlight amongst the crowd shifted, and along with it Mister Ferro-Ferrovax walked forwards. The berth that the Vampires had given Jenny was one thing, Ferrovax they seemed to avoid like a plague. Whether it was out of an unhealthy amount of respect, or a healthy amount of fear, Harry could not be sure. Considering what he was, it was probably not that surprising that it would be the later.

The deceptively Mortal looking figured met the stage just as two people appeared from the back of the stage. Between them, they held a chest. If asked, Harry would have said it was half the size of the trunk he had used at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, it was still impressive. Mostly due to the gold surface, and precious jewels that were encrusted onto its surface.

The chest sparkled radiantly under the lights of the ballroom. It took Harry a moment to draw his eyes away from the sizable proportions of precious metals and gemstones. Just as he was able to something occurred to draw his gaze back, again. Ferrovax unclasped the top of the chest and lifted it open. Harry felt his lips part in surprise. A veritable mound of silver and gold spilled out into view.

"Impressive," he heard Thomas murmur beside him. Harry could not bring himself to agree. It was decidedly harder, with his mouth refusing to work the way it should have.

Harry's ability to focus on something other than shiny golden coins was returned as 'Mister Ferro' shut the lid of the golden chest. A pleased look had situated itself on the immortal's visage.

"A worthy offering that speaks of conviction."

The Vampiress inclined her head with a pleased expression.

Ferrovax left the stage soon after, the chest had mysteriously vanished the moment his eyes had left it, much in the same manner that Jenny's had. The low rumble of appaulse subsided as the unnamed vampire spoke again. "Brothers among the court, we of court welcome our cousin of the White court, with open arms." A slow derisive smile appeared on the woman's lips as Thomas' name escaped them. It looked like she had sucked on something sour, the way the distaste showed.

Harry saw Thomas move from beside him, he glanced to Thomas as the incubus rose to his feet and caught sight of a charming smile, that was all but fake. "Keep an eye out for me, would you Harry?" Harry heard the words but did not see Thomas's lips move. Besides Thomas Kathleen was lounging against her seat, her dress' cleavage showing and light perspiration beading on her forehead. She had an absent satisfied expression.

Harry stared for a few moments before his eyes flickering towards Thomas as he made his way towards the stage. Unlike the other two guests Thomas wasn't afforded much room to move. It was an obvious insult. Though, according to what Thomas had explained about his father, and him being invited, it made a little sense.

As Thomas approached the stage Harry slipped his hand into his pocket and allowed his fingers to trace the grain of his wand. A shiver ran through his body and Harry stiffened as he felt a lukewarm breath blow against the back of his neck. Harry turned around, his fingers stiffening and preparing to draw.

"I couldn't help but notice how your attention has continued to rest upon my shoulders."

Harry stared into green feline eyes and a shiver based on something completely different ran through his body. "Jenny," Harry greeted after a moment.

The Sidhe smiled beautifully and Harry had the sudden urge to see what else he could do to earn the smile again. A fraction of an instance later Harry caught himself and focused his mind. The effect lessened but it remained portent. Jenny's smile widened slightly, becoming more unnatural. "Impressive," she murmured, her voice soft and pleasant on the ears.

A feeling akin to having been dumped in ice cold water settled over Harry, causing his muscles to stiffen and a sudden awareness to come over him. Harry looked at jenny again and found a less predatory, and more soothing smile upon her lips again. "My apologies for imposing a glamour on you," she said demurely. "It is a rather ingrained habit." She held her hand out to Harry.

Harry stared at the hand suspiciously. He took pointed know that she had held out her right hand, when earlier she had done the same with her left. A chilled smile appeared on Harry's lips. He reached forwards with his left hand and lightly clasped the Sidhe's cool silky smooth hand. He shook it once and let go.

Jenny's smile became still.

"Nice try," Harry offered with a smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Whatever could you mean?" The innocent tone that Jenny employed sat at odds with her smile.

Harry gritted his teeth together, and his eyes flickered to the stage. Thomas was standing in front of the host with a small box in his hands. He wore a friendly smile upon his face, and if Harry had not known better he would not have guessed it was fake. Thomas was a really good actor, Harry decided.

A hand touched upon Harry's shoulder, drawing his attention back to the Green-haired girl beside him.

"Again, I apologize for being unseemly towards you, Mr Harry." Jenny's tone of voice seemed to radiate concern. Her smile once again seemed genuine, if not wistful. "I noticed that your hand was clasped around something in your pocket and my curiosity got the better of me." Her smile became inviting, familiar. "I do hope I haven't put you off."

Jenny reached for Harry's free hand and held it reverently between her fingers. She brought it up to her lips. Cool moist lips pressed against the skin on the back of Harry's hand. They remained there for a few moments before parting. A cool breath of air blew forth from Jenny's lips and touched upon the skin where she had laid the kiss. A soft hint of frost appeared upon the skin, leaving behind a gentle marking.

Harry stared at the back of his hand dubiously before tensing as Jenny began to gently caress his hand with her finger tips, slowly, almost feather-like in touch; She smiled sweetly causing Harry's blood to change direction. "It would pleased me greatly to leave you with a better first impression." She leaned forwards ever so slightly showing off just a hint more of cleavage.

Dry course lips parted subconsciously and Harry had to take a moment again to focus his thoughts. His eyes kept flickering down past Jenny's neckline involuntarily.

Harry shifted in his seat, his pants suddenly uncomfortable.

Across from him Jenny continued to smile, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.

Harry licked his lips and met the green feline eyes across from him. He smiled.

"If you'd like to make it up to me, you could start by telling me about the Sidhe."

Jenny's smile didn't falter. She shifted her hips in her seat. "I can think of much better ways to... acquaint ourselves, can't you?" she purred out, her voice thick with lust.

Harry closed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Jenny's. His hand came free easily, and Jenny placed her hands upon her lap and straightened up, causing the cleavage she had been presenting to disappear.

Her smile lost it's beauty and became more alien. "If that is what you wish then I, of course, will oblige thee."

Harry was certain that the room also had gotten colder.

On the bright side, his pants were becoming more comfortable.

"What do you wish to know of the Sidhe?"

Harry considered Jenny in silence before a question slowly began to form. "What do I need to know about the Sidhe?"

Jenny's lips became pursed.

"There are two main court's of the Sidhe. Summer, and Winter." Jenny began her explanation smoothly. "I am of Winter." She smiled prettily again. "Some would consider Winter to be harsh and cruel, but in Winter there are many lessons to learn, it is what I believe."

A look of unpleasantness marred Jenny's good looks for a moment.

"The Summer Sidhe are... deplorable creatures. They hide their true natures behind warm smiles and fake empathy." She sneered. "Mortal's would consider them to be the friendlier, but they are all the more insidious for their ways." She paused, and considered Harry.

"There are also the Wyldfae, undisciplined rejects that are incapable of civilized manners." Contempt became apparent in the pretty fae's voice.

"The court's are lead by two Queens; The Queen of Winter, and the Queen of Summer."

"What are their names?" Harry inquired.

Jenny shook her head. "Do not call or invoke their names, Harry, to do so is to call their gaze upon you, such a thing can only end unwell for any being." She bit her bottom lip and a look of debate passed over her. "Under the Queen's there are the two Lady's."

Jenny gestured to herself. "I serve the Winter Lady, Maeve."

"What is she like?"

Jenny smiled apologetically. "I cannot answer that question, for I hold an obligation to the Winter Lady."

"You can't, or you won't?" Harry inquired.

Jenny insisted. "I can't."

"What about the.. Lady of Summer?"

"The Summer Lady," Jenny corrected politely, before crinkling her nose. "The Summer Lady, is a changeling named Lily, who took on the mantle two cycles ago."

"Changeling?"

Jenny's smile widened ever so slightly. "A changeling is the result of coupling between a Sidhe and a Mortal." Her eyes glittered. "Once they reach maturity they must choose between remaining mortal, or taking upon themselves the mantle of their forbearer."

She pursued her lips. "But we are getting off course, You asked what knowledge of the Sidhe that you needed to know, did you not?" She smiled coyly. "Any extra will cost you," she purred sensuously.

A feeling of suspicious overcame Harry.

"What do you mean?"

Jenny smile dimmed ever so slightly.

"A custom of the Sidhe is equal trade, an eye for an eye, some would say? Along with that is the concept of Bargains, something desired traded for something of value, yes?" A small pink tongue moistened pert red lips. "We Sidhe afford Bargains to mortals, for equal exchange." Her lips parted for a moment. "An example would be, if you wished for a night of passion." She trailed her hands down her front before settling them on her lap. "I would, perhaps request your Issue?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "My issue?"

She laughed and smiled sweetly. "Your child."

Harry stared at Jenny, his face blank. "My child," he echoed incredulously. "Are you insane?"

Jenny's smile devolved into a blank expression. "It is fair trade, is it not? That is what laying with another being if for, is it not? It is but a simple conclusion to the price asked." She smiled again, causing a shiver to travel down Harry's spine. "But of course, you are not to ask for such a thing, are you, Harry?" His name fell from her lips in a heated whisper.

Harry glanced back up to the stage, where Thomas was finally parting ways with Duchess. "And for information?" Harry asked coolly as his gaze swapped back to Jenny.

"My price, for the information which I offer you should have already been paid." Jenny's lips quirked. "You have forgiven my earlier actions, haven't you?"

A chill swept through Harry's body.

"I have," Harry answered slowly, unsurely. The chill withered way leaving no traces that, it had even occurred.

A satisfied look formed on Jenny's face.

"I you wish to know anything else," she trailed off and smiled at Harry. "Call my name as I tell it to you." She leaned in close and a hauntingly lyrical sound flowed into Harry's ears. "It is a name I will know if it is uttered from your lips," Jenny informed Harry. "Speak it and I will know of you and will come to you if it is within my power, but do not call upon this Sidhe without payment," she warned, before her lips quirked. "I would be _devastated_ if something were to happen to you, Harry."

With not a word more, Jenny turned away and left Harry at the table. Harry stared after her, as the crowd parted and flowed around the green-haired Sidhe.

A soft, almost whisper quiet round of applause heralded the end of Thomas's time on the stage.

A murmured of discontent rose from Harry's left pulling his attention. The Justine look-alike stirred from her delirious state. "Where is the guy?" she murmured hazily. "Where is-"

"Thomas will be back in a moment," Harry interrupted.

The woman gave Harry a blank look before smiling gratefully and resting her head back against the seat.

A few moments later Thomas dropped down across from Harry, with a charming smile still affixed to his face. "I'm glad that's over," Thomas informed Harry, as he reached across the table and collected a goblet of amber liquid. "Now we just have to wait for the first people to start to leave and then we can get the hell out of dodge."

Aside from the spotlight shining down on the centre stage, there were no other lights. Never the less the she-vampire continued to smile and after a pertinent moment of silence she spoke, her gaze cast out among the crowd.

"And finally, we have a new friend, one who has recently proven themself worthy of holding court with our White Court Brothers. The Ally of my Ally is my friend. Please come up and allow me to present you with a gift, Thomas Raith's Plus One."

* * *

"What the hell, Thomas," Harry whispered angrily under his breath as he stared up at the stage, making eye contact with the hostess.

Beside him Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "No Idea, but if you don't go up there they'll get offended."

Harry glared sideways at Thomas.

As Harry stood up the crowd between the table he sat at, and the stage parted leaving a clear path towards the stage, at the end of which pearlescent dark eyes stared at Harry, with a warm inviting smile sitting just underneath. As Harry rose eyes all around him followed in wonder.

Harry stepped forwards and kept his gaze focused on the stage. As he walked forwards he caught, out of the corner of his eye a flash of green hair. He pointed resisted the urge to look and kept his eyes straight with a static smile set upon his face.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the dim and quiet ballroom. It was eerie. Harry steeled his nerves as he stopped in front of the smiling vampire, returning the gesture with a smile all of his own.

"I do apologize for not greeting you earlier, Mr Plus One." The host apologized smoothly with an apologetic look. "I was unaware that Mr Raith would not be accompanied by his kine."

Harry smiled as well as he could. "It's quite alright," he replied smoothly. "I only got the invitation a few hours ago."

The black haired vampire tilted her head to the side. "Truly? How.. uncouth, of Mr Raith to not do so earlier." She gestured to behind her with a sharp motion of her hand. "But it is fortuitous that you are here." She paused . "I do hope you are not offended by the lack of value this gift holds, I am aware I have only had a few moments to prepare."

A single servant approached from the back of the stage. In their hands they held a nondescript leather bound box, a hairs breadth longer than their forearm, three-quarters as wide, and half as deep. The Red Court Vampire accepted the gift and held it towards Harry.

She smiled a saccharine smile.

"Mr Plus One, Please accept this meagre gift as a token of respect and friendship from The Red Court." Her teeth glistened in the spotlight. "Know that should you ever reconsider your position with our Brother's and Sister's of the White, we shall welcome you with open arms."

She smiled in askance. "For anyone who can so easily cast down the White Council's dogs are readily welcome in the Court."

Harry managed to refrain from giving anything away with his body language. At least, he had tried not to. The vampire's questioning smile became pleased and Harry had the strongest feeling that he had given away something.

The lid of the chest opened without sound.

At first, Harry wasn't sure at what he was looking at.

On a bed of fine white material laid a monstrous gun of immaculate mirror-finish metal. Fine engravings of cloth less women danced upon the surface in a tangle of limbs and hair. The closer they moved towards the barrel the larger they became. The final engraving at the end of the barrel was a woman's face, eyes closed, lips parted ever so slightly, kidding the end.

Harry stared at it stupefied, his lips parted.

The host took this as a sign to explain.

"My gift, to you is this Desert Eagle, a weapon originally crafted by Bernard C. White." Pale pink lips quirked. "This gun was one of the original prototypes," she said slowly, enunciating her words. "It has been plated with white gold, and the bullets are made of the same alloy." A sparkle of amusement perpetuated itself in her eyes. "They are, unfortunately, just for show." A sparkling laugh rose from the woman's lips.

"It is..." Harry began to say, words momentarily eluding him. "A wonderful gift," he finished, smiling at the vampire in front of him. "Thank you, for giving it to me."

The host beamed in pleasure. The lid snapped closed and the vampires held the box out to Harry.

Harry held out his arms and accepted it. He almost dropped it as the weight settled on him.

His arms almost sagged under it, but he managed to maintain hold and give the appearance of ease. He shifted it under his left arm and held his right hand out to the vampiress.

Opaque Black eyes stared at Harry's hand curiously, before a smile registered upon her lips and she clasped Harry's hand, giving it a dainty squeeze. "The Red Court looks forward to working with you, Mr Plus One." Her voice was teasing, yet formal.

Harry smiled and inclined his head to Duchess, before turning away and stepping off the stage.

And just as everyone's attention had been drawn to the podium it was as quickly washed away back to the floor.

Harry's eyes scanned the floor for traces of Thomas, where they had been sitting, he caught a glimpse of white and was reassured of the Raith's presence. He shifted the box under his left arm and began to walk towards the table, the crowd parted in front of him, as it had before and allowed him to reach Thomas and his 'dinner-date' easily. Harry dropped the box onto the table in front of him and let out a light breath.

"It's pretty Heavy," Harry explained at Thomas's look, only to get an amused one in kind. As Harry slid into his seat, his eyes scanned the crowd again, and made contact momentarily with the back of Jenny's head. His gaze remained fixed on her for a few moments longer than necessary, but was quickly broken as the Green-haired fae turned towards him.

Conversely Ferrovax 'Mr Ferro' was nowhere to be seen. If Harry had to take a guess, he would say that he had left the moment he had received the gift from Duchess. A stab of pain registered in the forefront of Harry's mind as a flash of the Dragon's true appearance registered in his mind. Across from him Thomas chuckled and absently caressed Kathleen's cheek.

The red-marked woman had once again lost consciousness and was leaning against Thomas as a support.

"Remember," Thomas said to Harry, "The moment people start leaving, we're out of here." He grimaced. "If we're lucky we can get back to the Chicago before morning breaks." Thomas lightly set Kathleen's head back against the chair behind her and stood up from his chair.

He smiled at Harry. "Time to mingle, again."

If Harry hadn't already known that Thomas didn't want to be at the party he would never have guessed that the Raith scion wasn't entirely enthusiastic about 'mingling'.

Harry turned his gaze back to the brown-leather bound box in front of him. He reached towards it and trailed his fingers over the leather. The course material felt unusually cool under his fingertips. It felt awkward to receive such a thing and not give anything in return. However, it seemed that thought had not occurred to anyone. However, Jenny had given something to the host in return. Even if, according to her, it was in the nature of the Sidhe to do so.

Harry let out a breath of air. The fact that they had known about him had caused him some discomfort, though he had managed to hide the extent of it well enough. Harry slid his hands into the pockets of his suit and paused as his fingers touched upon a velvety smooth material.

He had forgotten that he had brought a bag of the lollies from Wonka's with him. Harry withdrew the small bag from his pocket and began to shift through the sweets inside, a meticulous process when the inside was bigger than the outside. Harry's fingers stilled as a Blood pop found its way into his fingers.

According to Thomas the Red Court actually drank blood. A smile quirked at Harry's lips and he wondered if the vampire hostess had a sweet tooth. He withdrew a single bloodpop and snapped the cover of the satchel closed, he jammed it back inside his pocket and stood up from the table.

Harry glanced back down at the tabletop, where the heavy leather box still sat. He glanced around the room. It was doubtful that anyone would take it, Harry decided and he turned away from the table, and began to look around the floor for the Dark-haired vampire hostess.

He caught sight of her near the stage, conversing with a set of people, all of which wore red, other vampires, Harry mused to himself. He approached casually, rolling the lollipop between his fingers.

"Excuse me," Harry politely tried to get the attention of the dark haired vampire.

The target of Harry's intentions paused in the middle of her conversation and turned towards Harry. As recognision flared in her eyes her lips widened in an almost-too-wide smile. "Mr Plus One," the female vampire greeted. "I was just about to seek you out."

Harry smiled in return and nodded. "I wanted to thank you for the gift, and give you something in return." Obsidian eyebrows rose at the declaration. "It isn't anything much, but I thought you might enjoy it." Harry held up the lollipop to the vampiress.

Beside and behind the host the vampires snickered.

The woman's gaze lingered on the offered candy for a few moments, before she inclined her head and plucked it from Harry's fingers. Harry felt a small rush of heat to his cheeks at the derision and immediately regretted his actions.

Small fingers made quick work of the wrapping on the lollipop. A second later the candy disappeared behind pale lips. The woman began to smile sweetly, but suddenly stopped and the muscles controlling her face went slack.

Shoulders stiffened, and a shudder ran through the woman's body, causing her flesh to ripple. A few moments passed in silence, the vampires and guests alike stared, some in surprise, some with curiosity, and others with blank expressions. Slowly the host lifted her hand and drew the lollipop from between her lips. A soft squishy pop sounded as it left them, leaving behind a smudge of crimson. A small pink tongue, a washed with red darted out over her lips and swept the trail off.

"This is blood." She stated quietly, her gaze fixated on Harry's eyes.

Said eyes blossomed into glossy pulsating black from within their pupils.

Harry held back a grimace. "Could you not do that, please?" Harry asked politely, his lips straining to maintain a pleasant disposition.

"Do what?"

Again a tongue trailed out over lips, this time moistening them in vermillion.

Harry gestured to his face. "The eye thing."

"Of course, my apologies." She blinked and her eyes returned to normal. The Red Court vampire rolled the lollipop stick between her fingertips. "Is this your blood?" she asked quietly.

"No," Harry answered after a second.

"Whose is it then?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."

A faint smile formed upon the vampire's lips. "I see, thank you for this... treat. Mr..." she trailed off and tilted her head to the side. "May I ask of you your name? I still do not know it." Her smile became bigger, taunting. "Of course I could continue to refer to you as Mr Plus One."

"Harry," Harry introduced himself.

"Surname?" the question came innocently enough.

Harry met the woman's gaze warily.

A tinkling laugh fell from her lips.

"You worry needlessly," the hostess assured Harry, "There are no wizards here, and those who are present would not hold council with the freakish kine."

Harry had the strangest urge to point out that he was a wizard, albeit not the kind she had been speaking of, but managed to refrain from doing so.

"Potter."

White teeth were presented.

"Duchess St. Clair," the Red Court Vampire counter introduced herself, extending her hand to Harry.

Harry reached for the dainty hand, and as his palm touched upon Duchess' she clasped his hand, turned it over, and brought it up to her lips. Harry stared in mild alarm as he felt a moist touch upon his knuckles. A moment later Duchess released Harry's hand.

Harry turned it over and stared at it.

Upon his knuckle, a bloody pair of lips had been imprinted.

"It's from the lollipop," Duchess explained coolly as she observed Harry's demeanor.

She brought the lollipop up to her lips and licked it. Harry felt a shiver run down his back as a bloody trail appeared on the vampire's tongue.

He had seen a blood pop eaten before, sure.

Ron had had one in the third year, and he had made a huge show about spitting blood on the snow at Hogsmead. The major difference was that Ron, unlike Duchess did not have a cute mouth. Nor did his teeth elongate in the presence of blood.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Duchess spoke slowly, before glancing down at the lollipop she held in hand. "Perhaps we can meet again, to discuss these?" She rolled the lollipop between her fingers again.

Harry glanced towards Thomas.

Thomas was staring at the exchange with a perturbed look.

Duchess followed Harry's gaze to Thomas and a small frown formed upon her lips. "Would it be easier if I scheduled a meeting with Lord Raith?"

Harry turned back to Duchess with a look of confusion in his eyes. "What?"

"You are in his employment, are you not?" she asked blandly. "If you are incapable of agreement, I will arrange the details with your," her smile became strained, "Employer."

"That wouldn't do much good." Harry informed the Vampire. "I'm not that kind of worker." He eased away from Duchess, onto his heels.

"Why else would you be here, if you were not?" The dark haired vampire asked in a sardonic manner.

"Because Thomas asked me to come," Harry stated calmly, locking gazes with the woman in front of him.

Duchess made a thoughtful noise and nodded her head. She absently took another lick of the bloodpop. "My apologies," she said smoothly, "I did not mean to offend you, nor put you on guard." Her cheeks colored lightly, very lightly. "I'm afraid my curiosity got the better of me."

The apology sounded fake, but never let it be said that Harry wasn't anything, if not diplomatic. "It's fine," Harry said with a smile worthy of Thomas.

Duchess reacted by giving a warm, inviting smile. "Would you be willing to talk over dinner, perhaps?" Her eyes glittered with an unknown quantity.

"I'm afraid I can't," Harry said with a sympathetic tone. "After the party I will be heading back to Chicago."

"To return to your job," Duchess asked innocently.

"Duty calls," Harry agreed, watching Duchess for a reaction.

"Really?" She teased, "How admirable of you." The Red Court Vampire took a step closer to harry and laid a free hand on his upper arm. "My offer, to you is still open," she informed him. "I assure you we take _very_ good care of our assets."

Harry continued to smile, though his muscles were beginning to ache. "Thank you for the offer, If I ever find myself with nowhere to go I will gladly accept." Harry's internal monologue placed the statement at a 6.5 on the bullshit scale.

"I'm beginning to get a bit light headed, so if you don't mind I'm going to go out for a bit of fresh air."

Duchess nodded acceptingly. "Perhaps once you're refreshed we can continue this delightful conversation?" She offered, her smile warm and inviting again.

Harry's eyes glittered in amusement. Despite the situation he was beginning to enjoy talking. The wizard slipped his hand into his pocket and with skill unbefitting his fingers managed to locate another bloodpop within the satchel.

"I'd like that, but if I can't," he held the second lollipop out to Duchess. "Here is compensation,"

The dark haired vampire smiled happily and plucked it from Harry's fingers.

"I graciously accept," she paused for a moment thoughtfully. "If you'd like you may go to the roof, to take your breath of fresh air," she teased. "It's quite the view.

From what Harry remembered the hotel from over fifty stories high. When they had arrived the lights of the city were beginning to flicker on in the dusk. The view at nighttime, above the sea of lights would be magnificent.

"I'd enjoy that, thank you," Harry said honestly with a grateful smile, one which was returned by Duchess.

The dark haired vampire glanced over her shoulder, searching for something. A moment later she turned back and pointed over her shoulder, towards an elevator at the back of the ball room. "Take that elevator to the top level, the penthouse; from there you should be able to get onto the rooftop."

"Thank you," Harry said as he stepped around Duchess.

A cool hand touched upon Harry's arm, causing him to stop. He looked back at Duchess.

"It was nice to meet you, Harry Potter," The Vampiress said with a kind look.

"You too, Duchess St. Claire," Harry offered back as he stepped around the group of vampires and made his way to the elevator, aware that Duchess' dark eyes were fixated on the back of his head.

Harry stopped in front of the elevator and thumbed the button beside the steel grate. It took a few moments but the doors opened up with a faint ding revealing an extravagantly decorated interior of red material and polished wood frames. Harry rapped his knuckle against the PH button at the list of buttons on the inside wall as he entered. The doors slid closed silently and the elevator began to move.

Harry's pocket vibrated, and a moment later an irritating jingle began to blare out from within his pants. Harry startled, but quickly drew the phone out of his pants pocket, he fumbled with the small device before finding the right button, and pressing it.

"Hello?" Harry asked, holding the mobile up to his ear.

"_Guess who!_"an overly perky voice teased from the other end of the call.

Harry's pocket vibrated. A moment later it rang. Harry drew out the phone in his pocket and for a few seconds fumbled before finding the right button and pressing it.

"Hello?" Harry asked, holding the mobile up to his ear.

"_Guess who?_" a perky voice teased on the other end of the call.

"Inari," Harry answered without hesitation.

"Y_ou're no fun,_" Inari complained. "So," her demeanour instantly shifted. "_How's the party going?_"

"It's fine," Harry answered easily.

"_Come on Harry,_" Inari whined, "_I need to live vicariously through you!_"

Harry could not help but snicker slightly.

"_Hey don't laugh!_" Harry could hear the pout through her voice, "_There is nothing to do without you here and-_" Inari stopped talking and went silent for a few moments. "_Lara says hi,_" Inari suddenly said; once again back on the phone. "_As I was saying there's not-"_

Harry ignored Inari's complaints for a moment and glanced to the floor number. There were still a few floors to go. The Elevator pulled to a stop on the 45th floor and the doors opened. A man in a red lined suit stepped into the elevator and hit the 48th button. He straightened his tie and kept his gaze focused on the door.

"_-king that when you get back we can go out shopping, you know? You can show me where you bought the lollies," _she said brightly, completely unaware that Harry had not been paying attention.

"Sorry, what?" Harry asked Inari, "Wasn't paying attention."

"_I said, I want to go to the lollishop you bought the lollies at,_" Inari repeated sourly.

"Maybe one day," Harry murmured absently. It was a possibility, though Harry would rather it never come to it. There was only one reason that Inari would have to see his world.

"_I'll hold you to that_," Inari said in a sing-along voice.

"Hold me to what?" Harry teased. "I said maybe."

Harry heard a noise of movement and then-

"_Lara! Harry's being mean to me!_" Inari shouted though Harry heard it slightly dampened.

The elevator stopped ascending and dinged. The doors of the elevator opened and the man stepped out paying Harry no heed. A moment later they closed shut and the elevator began to rise again.

"_Don't be mean to Inari_," a more mature, more sensual voice spoke through the phone.

"Lara?" Harry hazarded a guess.

"_Your deductive skills are quite astute_," the Succubus teased, "_How are you enjoying_ _the party?"_ She stressed the sarcasm on enjoying.

Harry grinned slightly.

"Oh you know, standing around doing nothing, I'm going to the top of the building for some fresh air right now." He explained as he watched the floor meter rise to 49th.

"_You left Thomas alone again?"_ Interest tinged Lara's voice.

"I'm not here as his bodyguard," Harry pointed out exasperatedly, "And I didn't feel like sticking around and watching him feel up girls."

"_That doesn't sound like his usual behaviour,_" Lara mused idly. "_Has he been on edge?_"

Harry blinked and took a moment to think back. "No not really, he just seems a bit put out."

"_Do the girl's look like dear Justine?_"

Harry frowned. "One did," he answered hesitantly.

Harry could hear a soft sigh from the other end of the phoneline.

"_His sentimentality will be the death of him one of these days._"

"What do you mean?"

"_Do not concern yourself with that, Harry._"

"_Wait a mom-_" Lara began to say away from the phone before the noise of struggle briefly and Inari's voice replaced Lara's. "_Hi again._"

"That wasn't very nice," Harry commented dryly, though his lips were quirked.

The doors gave a ding sound and slowly grinded open revealing a wide hallway. The ground was covered in a layer of pristine carpet that looked like it had been freshly laid. Harry hesitated for a moment before stepping out of the elevator; it almost seemed like a crime to dirty it. A soft pleasant smell tainted the air, sweet yet, somehow managed to not be invasive.

The sheer extravagance of the furnishings was not lost on Harry.

Paintings of landscapes and portraits adorned the walls every few meters, placed sparingly, yet they seemed to cover the cream walls with an amazing sense of decor. Harry's gaze swept the hallway for a sign of the pent house. There were no overt signs. Most of the rooms were adorned with a gold number ranging from zero to nine.

"_So_," Inari said, catching Harry's attention again. "_What are you doing now?_"

"I'm trying to find a way onto the roof," Harry answered absently as he continued to take note of the door numbers. The closer Harry got to the south end of the hallway the stronger the sweet scent became. Like too much perfume.

Harry turned a corner and spied a guard at the end of the hallway. He smiled and approached the stalwart uniform.

"Give me a second, Inari," Harry said into the phone before he dropped his hand from his ear to his side. "Hi," Harry greeted. "I'm looking for the penthouse? Duchess St. Claire told me I could get to the roof from it."

The guard turned to Harry and frowned. "The Penthouse is currently occupied," he said stiffly. "Please return at a later time if you wish to use it."

Harry frowned. "Is there another way to get onto the roof without going through the Penthouse?"

The guard shook his head before hesitating for a moment. "There is a secondary exit to the roof from room zero." The red covered figure informed Harry. "Though it may also be occupied."

Harry smiled and nodded to the guard. "Thanks," he turned away and brought the phone back up to his ear.

"You still there?"

"_Gosh, you took forever!_" Inari complained immediately.

"Sorry Princess," Harry teased lightly."

The sweet scent lessened the further away from the Guard he was. Green eyes scanned the golden numbers that adorned the front of the doors. The count ran backwards, and eventually, as Harry passed the elevator he came to zero. Harry knocked on the door twice and waited.

"_I'm bored._"

"Why don't you rent a movie or something?" Harry suggested. "They're pretty cheap aren't they?"

"_Don't you know the first law of physics?_" Inari asked exasperatedly, "_Anything fun costs at least a hundred dollars._" Harry could almost see Inari holding her face in hand.

The door in front of him remained closed, and no signs of life came from beyond the door.

"That doesn't make any sense." Harry said after a moment.

"_It's Physics_," Inari insisted again.

Harry chortled and after a quick glance around, he withdrew his wand from his suit's pocket and nonverbally cast _Alohamora_ on the door's lock. A quiet click was the only indication that the spell worked. He gripped the door handle, with his wand between it and his hand and opened the door.

"I'm pretty sure that's not right," Harry disagreed as he pushed the door open and entered the room.

The sickly sweet stench of rotten fruit assaulted Harry's olfactory system causing his nose to crinkle in disgust. Harry never the less continued to walk into the hotel room.

Harry's walk grinded to a halt and his muscles tensed as his eyes registered the sight in front of him.

Bulbous black eyes stared back unblinkingly. Black-flabby skinned bat-like creatures littered the floor space. Twisted horrific faces that were made of pure nightmare-fuel faced him. Their stomaches looked bloated and between their arms and flanks, slimy membranes stretched reflecting light in an obscene manner. Some had breasts that hung from their chests out of too-small red dresses. Others were bursting at the seams of tuxedos.

Clutched in each of the creature's claws were partially, fully, or naked men and women, some writhing in pleasure, others unmoving. More lay discarded between them, lying on the floor, pale and still.

Harry stared at the bodies strewn beneath the Vampires.

Moments passed and neither He nor they moved, the only motions were from the still living bodies that the creatures held.

Harry swallowed and spoke calmly. "Inari, I'll have to call you back." Inari's cry of outrage fell on deaf ears as Harry ended the call. He calmly slid the phone back into his pocket, unblinking, unwavering. His fingers curled around his wand, tightening their grip.

A whining hiss rose from the Red Court Vampire's throats as they turned to face Harry, curiosity blossoming in eyes that held insatiable hunger. Bodies dropped to the floor, and gaping maws parted. Blood dripped from fangs.

"You... are the Mistress' guest are you not?" One of the creatures stepped forwards and tilted it's head to the side. "You should not be here, honoured one." A long prehensile tongue slithered out over its mouth.

The vampire shuddered drawing the wing membranes close to its body. Black slime covered skin turned into pale, smooth flesh that spread over the vampire's dark skin like a growth of fungus. Flabby stomach tightened and flattened into smooth muscles chest. In seconds, a man was standing where there had once been a beast.

The man shifted his clothes into position and smiled, it did not flatter him. "I do apologize for this inappropriate scene, Mr...?" he trailed off in question.

Blank unfeeling began to give way to anger. Harry gritted his teeth together, but managed to restrain himself from action.

"I am Mr Plus One," Harry answered, recomposing himself. He gestured to the still bodies on the floor. "Are they dead?"

The man glanced around him and his smile wintered. "They have been fed upon in excess, yes." He tilted his head to the side. "They are kine, it is not offensive to you, is it?"

"It is," Harry coldly. The vampire's lips curled back in contempt, but he never the less inclined his head. "Then we of course will endeavour to make you more comfortable." He paused and suddenly his too-wide mouth showed off too many teeth.

He motioned his hand, and from the back of the room and the sea of black bodies parted and a lithe female form was pushed forwards, she was latin, and her hair was black and silky, almost as dark as the slick black skin of the vampires. She stumbled and almost fell to her knees, but a strong hand gripped her by the forearm and held her up. She had an empty look in her eye, and her neck was dyed red with a splattering of blood. "Allow us to make amends," the flesh-masked vampire insisted.

Harry opened his mouth to decline, but as he did he caught a flash of sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Harry flicked his want towards the source and a flash of yellow light erupted from the tip.

One of the vampire's was frozen in mid leap, it's fangs beared and it's clawed hands outstretched towards Harry.

"Do not attack him!" the man shouted, but his voice was lost amidst a series of snarls and another raspy female voice shouted from a corner of the room. "He's a wizard, get him!"

Nightmarish bodies flung themselves towards Harry with reckless abandon, claws displayed and fangs bared.

Harry swung his arm in an arc and shouted. "_Lumos Solem!_" A candescence of light erupted into being filling the room with a blinding array of orange light. Through the illumination Harry could hear hisses of pain and rage as the light of the sun washed over the vampires. The deluge of light maintained for a few seconds before it faded away. Harry wasted no time in turning about face and running for the door.

As he turned away, he could see the forms of the vampires withering on the ground with patches of flesh sizzling and blackened like charcoal. Harry didn't waste time to ponder the effect the spell had. He passed the door and slammed it shut behind him. Screeches sounded from beyond the door.

Harry ran towards the elevator and slammed his hand against the button repeatedly. He furrowed his brow and looked back at the door he had escaped from. An epiphany took hold in his mind and he waved his hand at the door. A translucent sheet of vermillion rose from the ground and sealed the door shut. None too soon, a second later the door snapped and buckled against its hinges and the hardwood frame cracked.

Again, and again the door was wracked with shudders and more fractured appeared on it, the door, a moment later was ripped clean off of its hinges and thrown back into the dark room.. The horrible faces of the Red Court clamoured in its place, claws scratching against an impassable barrier. The creatures screeched again.

A resounding screech followed from the opposite end of the corridor, following by a scream of agony. From the south end of the hallway monstrous black forms appeared from beyond the corner, piling into the free space and rushing towards Harry.

The green eyed wizard slashed his wand towards the oncoming horde and snarled. "_Sectumsempra!_" The first wave of creatures howled in pain as large gashes appeared on their stomachs and began bleeding profusely, they clutched at their stomachs trying to hold in the blood, but to no avail.

Harry's eyes widened and he repeated the spell, and the gestures, tearing into scores of the vampires at a time. Behind him the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Harry wasted no time in stepping into the elevator and slamming his fingers on first floor's button.

The moment his line of sight to room zero was broken the barrier that held the vampires back shattered and more of the bat-like creatures poured into the hallway.

As the doors slid closed skeletal black hands appeared, clutching the door and attempting to pull it open.

"_Effundio!_"

White light snapped out through the crack of the elevator doors and the hands were wrenched away as the bodies they were attached to were flung violently back against the wall opposite the Elevator door.

Harry stepped back away from the elevator door as sounds of screeches and the sound of claws scratching against metal echoed through into the elevator shaft. He continued back until his back pressed against the wall. The black haired wizard exhaled sharply as he attempted to calm his racing heart down.

The elevator shuddered and rocked as something impacted on the roof. A second later, the manhole on was torn off of the roof and the dark shaft was revealed, illuminated by few and far in-between diodes of light. A sunny blonde head of hair appeared in the opening with familiar blue eyes.

"Marion?" Harry blurted out in disbelief.

A smile appeared on the woman's face.

"Don't mind me," Marion purred, her hands gripping the panel with both of her hands. "Just dropping in for a bite to drink." Her face erupted into a black monstrosity with a screech.

"_Effundio!_" Harry stabbed his wand at the vampire's face.

The creature was flung upwards into the air as the spell influenced it. In the dim light of the white washout Harry caught sight of blade bodies crawling down the shaft walls, beady too-big eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Harry's heart thudded rapidly against his ribcage as he gripped his wand.

"_Lumos Solem!"_ Harry repeated his earlier spell and held his wand up to the grate. Sunlight erupted from the tip and streamed out of the hatch. Shrieks of pain echoed through the dark space as the light tore through some of the vampire's hides, and as the light faded the shudder of bodies, dropping on the roof of the elevator rocked it. The cables attached to the elevator creaked under the stress.

"_Incendio Flamen!_" Harry pushed his will into form.

The form of a monolithic cone of flames.

Fire tore forth into existence from the tip of Harry's wand, the sheer force of which had him almost fall from his feet. The flames funnelled up and out of the elevator into the dim shaft full of vampires. What the screams of pain had been before had nothing on the sudden wails of agony that began to flood the elevator as the vampires were ignored by the spell. Tongues of flames licking the top of the elevator leaving black scorch marks.

The spell remained active for seconds, and as the heat and screams began to die down Harry lowered his wand. The flames dispersed and Harry found himself staring up at the ceiling of the elevator, and into the dark shaft. Whatever life had been above him, Harry was fairly sure had been snuffed out by the flame., along with the lights that had decorated the sides.

That didn't mean there was no source of light above, no.

Harry swallowed.

The main elevator cable burned a bright orange, Harry could see the edges of it dribble small patches of molten metal. The flames he had conjured had superheated the woven metal cable up to an insane temperature.

Harry noticed for the first time since he had cast the spell.

The Elevator had stopped moving.

A low rasping sound filled the elevator from above, slow, deep and breathless.

"You're a freak," a dry choking voice gasped out. "You're one of _them_." It snarled weakly.

Harry couldn't see anything even if the assistance of the orange glow of the cord.

"Die with me, White Wizard," the voice managed to splutter out in a chilling sing-along voice.

* * *

The elevator shuddered and the cable above began to snap, dropping the elevator an inch in a sudden movement. Harry gritted his teeth and ignored the raspy laughter above as he drew in his will and focused on the elevator cabin itself.

"_Ares-"_ Harry began to chant, only to cut off as the bottom of his stomach, and the elevator began to drop. Harry stumbled, and a second later his feet separated from the floor. His eyes became wide and he began to panic. "_Aresto Momento!_" Harry shouted out , slashing his wand at the bottom of the elevator. The effort amounted to very little as the cabin continued to plummet, gaining speed.

The sides of the elevator began to screech as they scraped against the elevator shaft. Harry shut his eyes tight and tried to focus on ballroom. His attention kept slipping as the feeling in his stomach, the lack of gravity and the falling sensation kept breaking his concentration.

Suddenly, without warning Harry 's feet met the bottom of the elevator again, for a fraction of a second before they slipped out from under him and he fell to the floor. An intense pressure began to bundle on top of Harry and he closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around himself to protect himself. Somewhere he knew, inside that, it was a useless gesture, and the moment he hit the ground he'd be less than a bloody puddle, but he didn't care.

A thunderous roar burst through the air as the elevator collided at terminal velocity with the ground floor. The walls of the cabin buckled and the roof crumpled as the force of two tons of steel and wood accommodated gravity and kinetic force.

He couldn't feel anything.

He couldn't feel the crushing force of the kinetic energy ripping out of his body and transferring into the ground. Or the crushing pain as the cabin collapsed on top of him and crushed his body with steel and timber. He couldn't feel his fractions bone.

All he could feel was the perspiration on his brow, and the breath leaving his lips in short panicked inhalations.

Harry cracked his eyes open. A pale, translucent cocoon of amber energy surrounded him, like a membrane of fluid. It shimmer deceptively against a mesh of bent steel and splintered wood.

Harry flinched as a sudden impact jolted him from his shock.

Black bodies fell from above, splattering in bloodied splashed as they met with the wreckage of the elevator beneath them. The smell of freshly spilled blood, and rotten fruit assaulted Harry's senses and the protective barrier that surrounded him fell. A cascade of red and black blood drenched him as it dripped through the shattered roof of the cabin. Harry almost gagged and wiped the slush off of his face and squinted. His vision was marred by thrashed iron, and gore but he could make out a light a meter above.

Harry stelled his nerves and pulled himself to his feet, using a bent girter. He felt his wand in his hand, still whole and intact. He flicks it at his face and muttered a cleaning charm and almost cried in sheer relief as the stench and muck that assaulted his senses abated briefly.

Harry inhaled, and exhaled repeatedly until his breathing was once again steady. He looked up, at the source of light. The doors to the elevator on the bottom floor had been busted open, but not far enough for Harry to get through. He flicked his wand at the slit of light above the wreckage and cast an _Alohamora_ at it. The doors fizzled and sparkled, and after a moment they began to draw open in jerky motions. Whether it was from the spell, or from the impact of the elevator that had almost blown them off, Harry did not know.

Sterile light flooded the womb of the shaft and stung Harry's eyes shortly before his eyes adjusted. He could make out a section of indents below it, in the wall, just long and deep enough for footholds. Harry moved over the wreckage, ignoring the squelching sounds as he stepped on the charred carcasses of the fallen vampires.

As Harry pulled himself up and out of the elevator shaft, he saw a dirty white hallway before him, it was deserted, but there was evidence of people only just having left. A trolley, which had been covered with food, was slowly wheeling away of its own accord, with pieces of food dropping off, leaving a trail behind it.

For a moment, Harry considered just disapparating straight away, and heading back to Chicago, as he had done two nights prior. He decided against it, soon enough. At the very least he had to collect Thomas before leaving. Harry doubted he'd get a well reception if he left Thomas to deal with the aftermath.

Although, considering what Thomas had said, Lord Raith might just give him a bonus to his 'salary' if he offed the Raith scion. It wasn't a tough decision in the end, Harry had no love for the bastard, and saving his son would be well enough. Harry looked around the off-white corridor and spied a set of signs off to the side. One of which depicted a man walking up a staircase.

Harry let out a breath of air and made towards the direction that the sign pointed at. The entrance was covered by an emergency door. It didn't seem to have any alarms, nor did it seem to be locked, so Harry passed by it, and as he did he heard a commotion behind himself, people running, shouting. He really didn't care for it. Harry slid his wand into his suit's pocket as he reached the lobby.

The crash of the elevator had drawn a lot of attention, the lobby was scattered with people. Some, who looked like they had been at the party, some wearing red. Harry made it a point to avoid them. It was a bit of a chore, considering he was still splattered in black and red gore. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spied the woman that Thomas had been attached to for the most part. Kathleen, or some such.

Harry scanned the crowds for sight of Thomas, but did not manage to locate him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of an unwanted figure and he was sure he had caught her attention as well. Just as well, a second later he managed to find Thomas amongst the sea of red and black.

He tried, as much as he could, to go unnoticed as he approached the white-clad incubus. It was futile, and soon enough he abandoned all attempts at blending in. He noticed, as he got closer, that under arm Thomas held the leather bound chest that Duchess had given him.

He was close enough to catch Thomas' attention when a light hand touched upon his shoulder, and stopped him from advancing.

"Are you alright?"

Harry stilled, his shoulders tensed, and slowly turned to face the origin of the voice.

Duchess St. Claire's eyes smoldered as they took in the blood covered tuxedo hugging his skin like a lover's kiss. Her slightly parted lips and frown seemed to show her internal battle between wanting to take him to the floor then and there to feed or question him where he had become so arousingly bloody on his trip to the roof.

"I am, the elevator, however, is not." Harry managed to say, after a few seconds, his voice cool and collected. It echoed through the lobby, turning heads towards him. Harry tuened away from the female vampire and made towards Thomas again. By this point Thomas had taken notice of harry and had moved towards him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Thomas asked in bewilderment as he took in Harry's appearance.

Harry gave Thomas a forced smile. "Accident."

"Please, wait, Harry." Again a hand touched upon Harry's elbow briefly before drawing back.

Again, Harry turned back to Duchess he smiled at her, his smile more forced and reached over to Thomas and clutched his arm.

"A pleasure meeting you Duchess, and sorry for the mess," Harry offered, even to his own ears, it sounded insincere.

Harry focused his will upon both himself and Thomas, and pictured Raith Château in mind, and a second later the world around him shifted. The sensation of being force-fed through an intravenous catheter pressed against Harry, and his passenger. The trip began almost smoothly but quickly degraded, and almost as soon it was over and a rush of air smothered Harry.

A second later the bottom of his stomach dropped out and he panicked.

A second after that and he yelped as he was dunked into a body of frigid, cold water. His body temperature suddenly plummeted and the air in his lungs left quickly. Harry swam to the surface as fast as he could, his suit slowly his progress and weighing him down. He broke the surface with a gasp, and cold air filtered through into his lungs.

"Empty Night," he heard Thomas groan from beside him, and a second later felt a splash of water against his face. "What the hell was that?" The Incubus demanded to know. A second later Harry felt something grip him by the back of his collar, and he found himself being pulled away. In seconds Harry fund himself with solid mass pressed against his back. He clutched at it and pulled himself up.

He reached up and rubbed his hand over his face, wiping the water away. He briefly noted that his glasses were missing before he squinted and looked behind himself. The lowlight pool at the back of the chateau filled his vision.

Harry hoisted himself out of the pool, with a bit of difficulty. He looked around for Thomas, but failed to find him. A second later, the pool's surface broke again and Thomas emerged from the depths, a black box under held under an arm.

Thomas lifted it up and pushed it onto solid ground before he heaved himself up and out of the water. Harry realized, after a moment that it was the leather bound box that Duchess had gifted him. A wry grin formed on his features.

"You teleported us?" Thomas asked dubiously, before cracking a grin. "Your aims a bit off, you know?"

Harry snorted, blowing out some water that hung off his nose. "It gets imprecise at long ranges." Harry explained as he brought a hand up to his head and ran it through his hair. "You're my bad luck charm," Harry informed Thomas.

"What happened back there?"

Thomas shook his head, sending water spraying around, before he mimicked Harry and ran his fingers through his dark locks. To Harry's annoyance as he did his hair fell back into proper form.

"Bunch of the bats attacked me," Harry muttered before glancing down at his suit, and then into the pool.

There was a murky dark cloud of blood in the pool that was slowly bleeding out and diluting into the water.

"They attacked me, and I accidentally melted the elevator cable." He paused, and it took him a moment to swallow his pride. "While I was in it."

Thomas's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"That's what the crash was? How are you in one piece?" he asked dubiously.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "I have no idea."

He brought a hand up to his vision and watched as a trace of translucent energy swirled over his fingers, before disappearing beneath his skin.

"I still don't know what this is," he muttered under his breath, but not low enough for the Raith's hearing to pick up.

"What was is?" Thomas asked quietly as he watched Harry's hand.

"The Power he Knew Not?" Harry offered with a disparaging smile.

Near the mansion Harry could see shadows moving.

"Looks like the Calvaries' here," Harry noted dryly.

Thomas let out a rich laugh and nodded, before picking up the leather-bound chest and handing it off to Harry.

"Don't forget the parting gift," the dark haired Raith joked, and a second later Harry found himself chuckling.


End file.
